High School Reunion
by Monthadog
Summary: The kids from South Park are twenty five now and their first high school reunion is coming up unexpectedly. Has everyone been able to escape the small mountain town to live a happy sucessful life or did some end up stuck where they grew up? Who ended up married? Who fell in love? Who never made it out? M for language and drug use.
1. Chapter 1: The Married Couple

**A/N: This story was originally going to be a Stan x Craig oneshot but then I thought of all these other back stories for other characters and it evolved into a big ol' multi-chapter story! More and more I am feeling like I can relate to the citizens of South Park because I recently moved to an actual tiny little mountain town (in the North Georgia mountains) and it's so incredibly boring it has motivated me to keep writing this story which is my longest yet. A special thanks to my awesome-tastic fiancé for helping me with the research for this story and listening to my rants when I come up with ideas.**

* * *

Chapter song: "For You I Will (Confidence)" Teddy Geiger

The letters had come in the mail today. Stan came across it while sorting all of the envelopes he had retrieved from the mailbox at the end of the driveway of his Vermont home. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath and then hefted his briefcase from work onto the kitchen counter. Stan loosened his tie and set out to begin cooking dinner. He twisted his wedding band around his left ring finger out of habit as he glanced at the clock waiting for the pot of water to boil.

The twenty five year old man decided to go ahead and change into some sweat pants and a t-shirt before it was time to put the noodles into the boiling water. He typically arrived home before his spouse since his job as an accountant was more of a nine to five kind of thing than retail jobs tended to be. By the time he emerged from the bedroom and reentered the kitchen the water was bubbling loudly and ready to take on the dry pasta that Stan was pouring into it. Stan preheated the oven and got a tray of garlic bread ready before he made his way back to the letters he had left abandoned on the counter.

There was nothing very special about the envelopes: plain white paper and black ink print. The return address on both of them was what made him hold his breath. Typed neatly in the upper left hand corner was "South Park High School". One of the letters was addressed to him and the other was for his spouse. Stan took a deep breath and tore open the envelope addressed to him. It read:

_Dear South Park High School Alumni,_

_It's finally time for your class' reunion at South Park High School! Be sure to save the date to come see all your classmates! Go Cows!_

_Where: South Park High School gymnasium_

_When: May 22__nd__ 6pm_

The date is April 22nd. "Really?" Stan asked out loud. "You people give us one month's notice?" he sighed in frustration. "That's South Park for you," he grumbled as he put the letter down and resumed cooking. Just as the dark haired man was draining the noodles he saw a flash of headlights out the window as a car pulled up the driveway. Stan was pulling the garlic bread out of the oven when the door leading from the garage to the kitchen opened with the sound of jingling keys and footsteps.

As soon as the door was open he heard, "Stan, I swear to fucking God we had another one of those days where all the jack offs decide to call one right after another asking for mother fucking Battle Toads!" Stan finished placing all of the plates and utensils on the counter and turned to meet a pair of frustrated grey eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hun," he said sympathetically. "You're just in time for dinner. Maybe some spaghetti will make you feel better."

"Let me get out of this uniform first," Craig Tucker sighed as he made his way to the bedroom that he and Stan shared. Stan began making two plates of food and set them on TV trays in front of the couch before going back to the kitchen to grab two beers out of the fridge. Craig came out of the bedroom wearing loose pajama bottoms and a tank top.

"I already fixed you a plate," Stan called to him before he could make it all the way to the kitchen. Craig made a turn and entered the living room seeing his tray of food and beer set up next to Stan. He plopped down on the couch and began digging into his food.

"Thanks babe," Craig said with a mouthful of noodles earning a look from Stan that was a mix of disgust and acceptance of his "thank you". Once his mouth didn't have food in it he grabbed his beer and said, "You know working at Game Stop really sucks on days like this." Stan made a noise of concurrence as he flipped through channels on the TV. "And it really sucks being the manager on duty because none of those fart faced kids know how to deal with the crazy phone calls," he continued after he had taken a swig and then returned the bottle to his tray. Stan was about to put the remote down once he found a football game he didn't mind seeing but Craig started up again. "Stan, I love you but I am not in the mood to pretend I'm interested in your football shit." Stan sighed. He thought he was going to be able to get away with it this time but apparently not. He flipped the channel over to _Regular Show _and the two proceeded to eat their dinner.

Once their plates were empty Craig got up and took all of the dishes into the kitchen. He was midway through cleaning up the kitchen when he caught sight of the open letter. He picked it up and noticed the unopened envelope underneath it that was addressed to him. He assumed they were both the same so he went ahead and read the one made out to Stan Marsh. As soon as he finished reading it he frowned. "Stanley," he called into the living room.

"Yeah?" Stan answered back.

"Come into the kitchen. I think we have something to discuss," Craig informed him. A moment later Stan wandered into the kitchen with a look of confusion written on his face. He saw the letter in Craig's hand and instantly knew what the discussion was to be about. "Do you want to go?" Craig asked while placing the letter back on the counter. Stan's eyes stayed trained on Craig's hand for a moment then he returned his gaze to the other man's face.

"You know I'd love to see my friends again," Stan began wistfully. "I wouldn't mind seeing my parents either," he stated. Craig looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I would like to see what friends are up to as well," Craig said slowly. "I don't think I'd run the risk of seeing my parents as long as I stay away from town where we might bump into each other," Craig broke off for a moment as he fought back the memories that were wanting to break free. His home life back in South Park had been abusive. He packed up his bags and left town right after the graduation ceremony. He went to Vermont because he had seen pictures of it and thought it would be a beautiful place to start his life over. He was able to afford a really crappy apartment and put in job applications everywhere. The first place to give him an interview had been Game Stop. He stuck with them and worked his way up to the management position he currently had.

It was at the Game Stop that he came across Stan. Craig was working when suddenly a familiar face came through the door. Out of all the customers he could have had, Stan Marsh was the last person he expected to see. As it turned out, Stan chose to go to college in Vermont. At the time Craig had no idea what Stan had meant when he said he just wanted to go someplace where no one knew who he was so he could be himself. Eventually Craig and Stan began dating. Two years later when Stan was a junior in college he and Craig moved into a house together. The night Stan graduated from college with his degree in accounting, Craig asked him to marry him. That was when Craig realized why Stan had chosen to come to Vermont to be himself. They could actually legally get married. Stan still hadn't come out to his parents or friends and Craig didn't want anything to do with his family, so the two had their silver wedding rings engraved on the inside to read "Not even death" and went to the courthouse to sign the papers. Once everything was said and done, Stan even had his last name changed. He was still a pretty masculine dominant force and didn't want to lose his own name so he made it hyphenated. Now his legal name is Stanley Marsh-Tucker.

"I'm sure it will be okay," Stan comforted. He moved closer to the other dark haired man and wrapped his arms around his waist. Craig kissed Stan's forehead and ran his fingers through the other man's hair. "Even if you do run into them they can't do anything to you in public. Plus you're a grown ass man! You aren't their kid anymore," Stan continued to reason with him.

"Hmm," was Craig's response. He then held Stan's shoulders arm's length away from him so that Stan would look him in the eyes. "And you are going to have to tell your family that you are gay," Craig told him firmly. "We are married for fuck's sake! You have my last name!" he stated exasperatedly. Stan gave him a worried look.

"I know," he mumbled weakly. "I will. I wonder what everyone at the reunion is going to say. I don't think anyone else in our class was gay. Was Butters gay?" Stan wondered out loud. Craig chuckled slightly.

"I don't know. He did follow Kenny around like a lost puppy. Maybe he had a crush on him," Craig theorized.

"Hmm," Stan mimicked Craig's earlier response.

"Well I guess we'd better put in for some days off from work and buy some plane tickets. Will your parents pick us up from the airport?" Craig asked tiredly.

"Yeah they could," Stan said. "We might as well stay at their house too so that we don't have to pay for a hotel," he said while thinking out loud.

"That's fine with me," Craig said after yawning. "Let's go to bed. We'll figure out more details tomorrow," he suggested while shuffling off toward the bedroom. Stan followed suit.

The next day Stan and Craig requested the days off from work that were needed for the trip. When Stan got home from work he put on his comfortable clothes and then sat on the edge of the bed staring at his cell phone. His parents' house number stared back at him from the screen. When Craig got home from work and entered the bedroom he found Stan still poised in that position.

"Jesus Christ, Stan how long have you been sitting there like that? Has to be for at least twenty minutes," Craig exclaimed. Stan gave him a pleading look. "Do you want me to call for you?" Craig asked impatiently. Stan shook his head violently in a "no" response. "Then fucking do it already!" Craig cried and then proceeded to put his PJ's on.

As Craig left the room to search for some dinner Stan took a deep breath and pushed send on his phone. His heart was pounding as he listened to the sound of ringing coming from the ear piece. On the fifth ring he heard the sound of a phone being taken off the receiver and his mother's voice answering, "Hello?"

"Hey," he breathed into his end. "Hey Mom its Stan." He could barely contain his nerves but was able to hold it together enough that his mother didn't suspect anything to be wrong.

"Stan!" she exclaimed in excitement. "I haven't heard from you in years! I mean, other than the birthday and Christmas cards. You never call and you've never returned my calls," she sounded almost sad for a moment.

"I know Mom I'm sorry," Stan apologized feeling guilty for abandoning his family the way he did. He really loved his parents but he just couldn't bear the thought of them rejecting him if they found out he wasn't the All American manly man he thought they tried to raise him to be.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure of my long lost son finally giving me a call?" she asked breaking his reverie.

"Oh, um," Stan tried to collect his thoughts and push his guilt aside. "I got a letter in the mail the other day," he began quietly.

"Uh huh," Sharon responded.

"And, uh, apparently my high school reunion is happening next month," he told her.

"Oh yeah! I think I remember Sheila mentioning something about that a few days ago. Kyle is supposed to be coming to town for that," she recounted. Stan was relieved to hear this. He knew his super best friend had gotten into Harvard Law school so he was afraid of Kyle deciding it was too much of a hassle to come all the way back to Colorado for the reunion.

"That's cool," he told her.

"So," Sharon drew out trying to probe for more information.

"Yeah?" Stan asked.

"Well, Stan are you coming back for it or not?" she inquired impatiently. She was too eager to find out whether or not she was going to finally get to see her son after so many years.

"Uh yeah," he began, trying to hide his discomfort with where he knew the conversation was about to go.

"Oh Stanley!" Sharon proclaimed, "I can't wait to see you, honey!" Stan could almost see how happy she was just by the sound of her voice.

"Yeah, um, do you think you could pick us up from the airport and let us crash at your place so we don't have to rent a hotel?" he asked cautiously.

"We?" his mother repeated.

"Yeah," Stan began shifting his position on the edge of the bed. "So, please don't get mad," he pleaded knowing full well that she was going to flip her shit anyways because she's a mother and that's what they do when being told this information.

"What? Why?" she asked worriedly. "Why would I get mad? What's going on?" she demanded. The line was quiet for a moment except for Stan's audible breathing. "Stan?" Sharon questioned tentatively.

"Mom," he started with difficulty. "I, uh, I got married," he finally said.

"What? You didn't tell me? You didn't invite me, or anyone else in the family for that matter? You've never even brought anyone home! What the hell, Stanley?" she shouted angrily.

"Mom!" Stan tried to interject.

"Stanley Randall Marsh!" she chastised. He winced, not being able to tell her that that wasn't even really his name anymore. "I can't believe you would do something like this!" she continued ranting.

"Mom!" Stan finally cut in. "You don't understand. We didn't want to make a huge thing out of it. It wasn't just you and Dad and Shelly that weren't included, it was everybody. All we did was go to the courthouse. There was no wedding so don't worry, you didn't miss anything," he tried to appease her.

"Oh," she said simply. "Well, will there be a wedding later?" she asked. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, Mom," he stated firmly. "We are already married and content with that. We don't need a big deal ceremony," he explained.

"Alright, alright," Sharon surrendered. "So what's her name? She'll be coming to the reunion with you?" she pried. Stan sighed loudly.

"Mom, I have to go. I'll let you know the details of my flight later. We'll deal with all this later," he deflected.

"Fine," Sharon sighed. "I'm just glad I finally get to have my baby boy home again," she stated happily. "I can't wait to tell your father!"

"Yeah," Stan agreed unenthusiastically. "Talk to you later," he told her in order to wrap up the conversation.

"Of course, sweetie," she cooed lovingly. "I love you," she added.

"Love you too," he said. "Bye," he muttered as he ended the phone call. He looked up to see Craig standing in the doorway with a smug look on his face.

"This is why I'm glad I don't have to deal with that parental bullshit," he stated as he sauntered passed Stan to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

"Fuck you!" Stan said playfully. "You'll have to deal with them too when we arrive in South Park. They are your parents-in-law," he said matter of factly, earning a dark warning look from the other man. Stan laughed at his attempt at looking dangerous and moved to kiss Craig's cheek before preparing himself for bed.

* * *

The day of their flight was proving to be very stressful. Craig had a constant mantra playing in his head that repeated 'You won't run into your parents' and Stan had his nerves so worked up he could barely concentrate on one thing for longer than a few minutes. Craig looked up from his packing to see three open suitcases on Stan's side of the bed, each containing various items that could easily be consolidated into one suitcase. In the mean time, the anxious dark haired man could be heard futzling around in the bathroom with various toiletries.

"Jesus Christ," Craig commented quietly before heading into the bathroom to check on Stan. From the looks of it, the aforementioned young man was arranging and rearranging bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash as well as two sticks of deodorant. "Stan, what are you doing?" Craig asked in his best attempt at a comforting voice. He was growing impatient inwardly because he had nearly completed his own packing whereas Stan was just making a mess out of their bedroom and bathroom. They needed to be out the door headed to the airport in thirty minutes. Of course he had to restrain his frustrations because he could sense that in Stan's current state he would not be able to handle asshole Craig; instead he tried his best to be empathetic Craig. This particular form of Craig was a rare creature.

"Oh," Stan looked surprised at Craig's presence. "I'm just trying to figure out which of these I'm going to need," he motioned towards the bottles on the counter. It was obvious he was nearly hysterical. Stan exhaled deeply, "You know, we probably don't even need all of these. We could probably just share while we are there. That would save space in our bags," he continued to ramble. Craig moved closer to him and embraced him from behind, wrapping his arms around the slightly more built frame of the panicked man. He rested his chin on the top of Stan's head and observed the two of them together in the bathroom mirror. Craig had always been tall and rail-thin, although he was only a head taller than Stan.

"Why are you packing three bags?" Craig asked slowly, not wanting to set off the other man.

"I wasn't sure which would fit everything in it so I figured I would get them all started then see which had more space," Stan attempted to reason. Craig rolled his eyes.

"We are running out of time," he said calmly so as not to seem like he was trying to rush. "Why don't you go sit down and I will pack for you," he reasoned. Stan nodded in compliance and stepped out of the taller man's embrace to go sit on the living room couch.

"Did you pack your inhaler, babe?" Craig shouted into the other room.

"No," Stan replied weakly. "It's still in the medicine cabinet," he informed.

"Alright," Craig called back and proceeded to fill one of Stan's bags with all his necessary belongings. He did go by Stan's suggestion and only pack one set of toiletries for them to share in order for them to save space. In no time at all they were loaded up into Craig's Ford Focus and on their way to the airport. Craig offered his hand to Stan while he drove as a form of comfort. Stan gladly accepted the offer and tried his best to remain calm as he stared out the passenger window.

Once they were on the plane Craig offered Stan one of the ear buds to his mp3 player but Stan declined. He had to prepare what he was going to say to his parents and was far too distracted to pay any attention to music.

After the plane had landed, Craig awoke from his nap to see Stan staring blankly at the back of the seat in front of him.

"Come on Stan," Craig nudged him groggily. "It'll be okay. We have to get off the plane now," he stood up hoping to be able to coerce Stan out of his seat. The other dark haired man had a look of terror set in his light blue eyes.

"I'm just really freaking out, Craig!" Stan whispered fearfully.

"Well obviously," Craig snorted. Asshole Craig could not be contained forever.

"This is what I've been avoiding since high school, dude! Telling my parents I'm gay! At least you never have to go through with this. You don't give a shit about your parents but I care a lot about mine!" Stan frantically told him while being herded in the direction of the exit. Once they were off the plane and standing in the airport terminal Craig put his hand on Stan's shoulder.

"I'll be right here with you, okay? If worse comes to worse we'll get a hotel room and just stay there, but no matter what I'm here with you," the taller man whispered in his ear comfortingly. Stan turned his head back to look at the man who was now wearing a blue chullo hat and gave him a small smile. The two proceeded to walk toward baggage claim to retrieve their luggage and meet up with Stan's parents.

Randy and Sharon Marsh had only been waiting near the baggage claim for a few minutes.

"So what do you think about our little Stanley getting married?" Sharon asked her husband.

"Well if he wants to do that to himself then more power to him I guess," Randy stated nonchalantly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sharon asked hotly.

"Wha-? Oh, nothing. That's great that he's taken on more responsibility and has become a man," Randy corrected himself. Just then, Sharon caught sight of a familiar brown, red, and blue color pattern over where the luggage was being pushed out onto a conveyer belt.

"Oh!" Sharon gasped, clutching Randy's arm. "I think that's Stan over there!" she cried excitedly. Randy looked in the direction that his wife was pointing and saw the unmistakable black hair that matched his own. He also noticed that Stan was talking to a familiar blue and black clad bored looking young man. In South Park, everyone wore very distinct winter hats and he was pretty sure he had seen that blue chullo with the yellow puff ball before.

"Hey, honey," he said to Sharon. "Isn't that the trouble making kid that was in Stan's grade? The Tucker boy?" he asked uncertainly. Sharon squinted her eyes as she studied the young man in question from afar.

"Well what do you know," she remarked as recognition set in. "He must be coming to town for the reunion too and ended up on the same flight as Stan," she deduced. "No one's seen that boy since he ran away after graduating," she added.

"Yeah will I don't blame him," Randy remarked. "That Thomas Tucker is a real asshole when he drinks, which is pretty much all the time."

Stan had finally grabbed his suitcase and began walking toward his parents. Craig was still waiting on his to come out onto the conveyer belt and had taken to grumbling about "airport assholes" and how they had better not have lost his bag.

"Stanley!" his mother exclaimed as soon as he was close enough to be smothered in her embrace. When he had finally pried her off of him his father patted him roughly on the shoulder.

"Good to see you, son," he said with a goofy smile on his face.

"Thanks," he mumbled while looking at his feet. Craig had begun making his way over to them holding his bag and looking slightly less irate.

"So where's your wife, Stan?" Sharon asked excitedly. "I can't wait to meet her," she glanced around the airport for any young woman that would seem like Stan's type. Stan's face paled and he began looking nervous again.

"Mom, Dad," he began. "You remember Craig Tucker right? I went to school with him," Stan said fearfully.

"Yes, son we remember him," his mother replied. Craig had come up to stand next to Stan and placed his bag at his feet, earning a questioning look from Mrs. Marsh. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, um, this is my husband," he said with his eyes closed and gesturing towards Craig who stood staring blankly at his in-laws.

"Oh," Sharon said through a giggle. "Well, Craig, welcome to the family. We should probably get going I'm sure you boys are tired from your flight," she told them while grabbing Stan's suitcase. Stan had a complete look of shock on his face while Craig was ready to just roll with whatever was happening. Randy appeared unphazed at first until suddenly a look of frustration came across his face.

"God damn it!" he shouted.

"What now, Randy?" Sharon asked impatiently while turning sharply to face him.

"Now I owe Jimbo forty bucks!" he responded angrily.

"Why in the world would you owe him forty dollars?" Sharon asked irritably.

"Because!" he stammered, "Because of this!" he gestured wildly toward Stan and Craig.

"Randy you aren't making any sense!" Sharon insisted. Randy rolled his eyes.

"I almost forgot," he explained. "Way back after Jimbo and Ned took Stan and his friends on that hunting trip when they were kids, Jimbo kept telling me that Stan was going to grow up to be a queer. So I said, 'Nuh uh, I bet you forty bucks that it's just a phase'. Then he said, 'Well you're on then!' and I was like, 'Okay it's a bet.' I thought for sure I had won by now but I guess not," Randy pouted. "Well this sucks. Now I'm going to be out forty bucks."

"Christ, Randy," Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Just think of what I could have bought with that forty bucks, Sharon! Just think of the possibilities!" Randy urged. Craig face palmed.

"Wait!" Stan shouted. "So, you guys knew I was gay this whole time?" He couldn't believe this!

"Of course we did, Stanley," his mother answered. "We didn't know you were trying to hide it."

"Didn't know I was trying to hide it!" Stan was baffled. "This is some fucked up shit right here," he responded.

"Well, apparently on that hunting trip you refused to kill anything, going as far as saying you didn't want to "shoot the bunny"," Randy stated. Sharon nodded.

"Plus, all throughout your school years you only showed interest in one girl and that relationship never lasted," Sharon continued on. "There was also that time after your school football game when you decided to tell everyone at the end of your speech that it's okay to be a homosexual," she added. Stan was speechless. Craig gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. By this point they had made it to the Marsh's car and were loading up the boys' suitcases.

"Honestly," Randy started, "for the longest time I thought you were dating your little friend Kyle," he confessed.

"Dad!" Stan shouted much like an embarrassed teenager. "Kyle's just my friend!"

"What?" Randy put his hands up. "When your son is gay sometimes it's hard to tell who is just his buddy and who is his butt buddy," he defended. Stan's face turned two shades of red and even Craig shifted in his place in the back seat.

"For the love of God Randy just stop talking," Sharon said exasperated. The rest of the car ride was much more pleasant although occasionally everyone would ride in silence for a few moments.

As soon as Randy pulled into the driveway of the Marsh house Stan felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia rush over him. He had a lot of memories tied to this house. He knew Craig was probably feeling the same way just from being in the small town that they grew up in so he reached for the other noirette's hand and held it tightly. Craig shifted his grey eyes to meet Stan's light blue ones and offered a small upturn of his lips.

"Well boys, we're home," Randy announced as he shut the car off. "Go on inside and I'll grab your things," he told them.

"I'll help you with those, Mr. Marsh," Craig offered once he was out of the car. Randy swatted his hand away.

"Nah! You boys have had a long flight. I'm sure you're tired so I'll just grab these for you," he assured as he hefted one of the suitcases out of the trunk. "And don't call me Mr. Marsh! Just call me Randy!" Craig looked slightly uneasy with not being able to help out but went inside to join Stan on the couch anyways. Sharon peeked out from the kitchen after a moment.

"Are you boys hungry? It's a little late but I could make something light for you if you would like. Randy and I haven't eaten dinner yet so I don't mind," she asked.

"Sure Mom," Stan agreed to the offer. "Whatever you want to make will be fine."

"Okay Hun," she said disappearing into the kitchen again. Randy came bustling through the door with his arms full of luggage a moment later. Craig hopped up from the couch and took some of the load from Randy's arms.

"Thanks son," Stan's father said out of breath.

"No problem," Craig replied. "Stan, should I put these in your room? I assume that's where we are sleeping," Craig inquired.

"Uh, yeah I guess so," Stan thought for a moment. "I do still have a room here, right Dad?" he asked.

"Of course you do! Your mother and I left your room and Shelly's room intact. We were mostly afraid of what we would find in Shelly's room that's why we didn't touch it," Randy shivered at the thought. Craig continued standing in place with an odd look on his face.

"What?" Stan asked Craig.

"I don't know where your room is actually," Craig admitted. "I don't think I ever saw anything other than your living room when we were kids," he said quietly. Stan gave Craig a look of understanding. They really didn't hang out when they were kids. In fact, Stan and his friends were almost like rivals to Craig and his crew. There was even a time period where both groups were in such heated competitions with the other that Stan and his friends hated Craig's group and vice versa.

"Go up the stairs and it's the first door on the right," Stan instructed. Craig proceeded to carry all of their belongings up to the specified room. Stan turned to his father once he had taken a seat in the recliner on the other side of the living room. "What's Shelly up to these days?" he asked.

"Well she lives in Denver now," Randy started out. "She's married and got a kid. She's got some sort of cut throat corporate job. I dunno the details, Stanley. To be honest she bores the shit out of me when she goes on about it so I just completely zone out. What is it that you do, Stan?" he asked intently.

"I'm an accountant," Stan answered.

"God damn that sounds boring as shit!" Randy complained loudly.

"What?" Stan protested. "How does being a geologist sound any more exciting than being an accountant?" Stan argued.

"Because Stan," Randy explained, "it ends with '-ist' so it sounds important and scientific. Just do me a favor and don't ever talk about your boring job around me. I don't want to have to zone out around both my kids, that would just make me feel like a bad parent or something," he pleaded. Stan rolled his eyes. "This is great though! The two Marsh men hanging out and talking," Randy marveled.

"Well Dad, my last name has kind of changed a little bit," Stan told him.

"What do you mean?" his father asked.

"I had my last name changed to Marsh-Tucker after I got married," he elaborated.

"Oh," Randy took a moment to think about this new information. "Well, part of it is still Marsh so that's good enough for me," he concluded.

"Dinner's ready!" Sharon called from the kitchen just as Craig descended the stairs. Randy made his way to the kitchen while Stan waited for Craig at the bottom of the stairs. Stan embraced Craig in a loving hug.

"Food's ready," Stan informed him.

"Good I'm starving," Craig replied. Stan took him by the hand and led him to the kitchen to get their food. Sharon had made BLT sandwiches. Once everyone had a plate of food they settled at the table to eat.

"You know Craig," Randy said between mouthfuls of food, "I should take you and Stan down to the bar to have some beers and welcome you into the family." Craig froze momentarily. He was sure that his father frequented the same bar that Stan's dad liked to go to.

"I really appreciate the offer, uh, Randy," Craig said, still getting used to calling Stan's dad by his first name. "But I would really like to try to get through this trip without seeing anyone from my family and I'm pretty sure my," he searched for a word for a moment before painfully settling for one, "_father_ goes to that bar a lot." Randy and Sharon shared a look while Stan placed his hand over Craig's, their matching wedding rings gleaming clearly in the light of the dining room.

"So it's true," Sharon asked cautiously. "What they say about why you left?" A dark look clouded Craig's already stormy grey eyes.

"I don't know," he said almost bitterly. "What do they say about me?" Sharon had a look of hesitation on her face.

"You have to understand I'm not trying to hurt you by asking, I was just curious if there was merit to the gossip that I had heard," she clarified. Craig nodded in understanding.

"Well obviously the one about Thomas murdering the boy in a drunken rage and burying him under the house is a bunch of shit because otherwise he wouldn't be sitting right here," Randy threw out there, lacking tact as usual. Craig looked horrified and Stan tightened his grip on his hand. Sharon ignored her husband.

"While that was one of the theories, many others sounded more likely. I had heard that he was violent toward you and your mother. He would treat you and your sister horribly and beat you. Is that true?" she asked gently. Craig looked down at the table. He was embarrassed that the whole town had been talking about him and his family since he left. He was also ashamed to admit that some of the talk was true.

"Yeah," he answered quietly. "He used to beat the shit out of me almost every day. It took everything I had in me to stick it out until I finished high school before taking off. As soon as I had my diploma in my hand I was out of there. He wasn't as hard on Ruby so I wasn't too worried about leaving her behind. I think he thought my mom had had an affair or something and then ended up with me since I didn't look like I belonged in the family. He couldn't get that out of his head so he punished us for it." Sharon nearly had tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," Craig instructed firmly. "I got the hell out, ended up getting together with Stan, and now I have a great life. I just came back to South Park to see how my friends are doing. I haven't seen or heard from Token, Clyde, or Tweek since I left here when I was eighteen," he stated before finishing off his sandwich. Sharon shared a nervous look with Randy for a moment.

"You were friends with the Tweak boy?" she asked lightly. Craig nodded his head.

"Yeah, why?" he asked curiously. Sharon hesitated momentarily before she decided what she was going to say.

"No reason," she looked down at her plate. "I'm sure you'll catch up with him at the reunion." Craig found her behavior to be a bit off but decided to ignore it. "Well, we may not have seen you around as much as Kyle, Eric, or," she gave a strained look, "Kenny, but you have married our son so now you are a part of our family," she said warmly. "If there is anything you need please don't hesitate to ask," she smiled at him. Craig could feel the genuineness in her tone and gave his slight upturn of his lips.

"Thank you," he replied.

After finishing their dinner, the two young men bid Randy and Sharon goodnight and made their way upstairs to get ready for bed. Once their teeth had been brushed, Stan changed into a pair of sweat pants and an old football jersey while Craig simply wore a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. The two settled into Stan's childhood bed and flipped the lamp off.

"As a kid I never thought I would ever end up sleeping in your room," Craig whispered to Stan as he scooted his body closer to him. He settled himself so that Stan's back was pressed against his chest and he could wrap his arms around the other dark haired man's body to hold him close. Stan closed his eyes as a feeling of security enveloped him by being held in his husband's embrace.

"Yeah it's kinda crazy to think that we somehow ended up where we are now considering how we were when we were kids," Stan sighed. "I'm glad my parents are being so cool about this. They really seem to like you," he commented. Craig kissed the top of Stan's head.

"Yeah it does seem like they do like me. That's good I guess," Craig whispered back. He wasn't sure why he was whispering but he felt like since it was dark in the room and they were lying so close together it seems like the thing to do.

"Do you think all your friends will be there? Clyde, Token, and Tweek?" Stan asked quietly.

"I hope so," Craig admitted. "Did you notice how weird your parents got when I mentioned Tweek?" he asked.

"Yeah that was pretty weird. My mom made this weird face when she brought up Kenny too," Stan said. "Maybe they still live here in town or something," he guessed.

"Maybe," Craig agreed. The two were silent for a moment mulling over the possibilities of people that they wanted to see not actually being there at all.

"I sort of don't even care if Cartman is there," Stan finally broke the silence. Craig scoffed.

"Hell, I hope he's not there. That guy was an asshole, and that's coming from me," he stated. "Why were you guys friends with him?" he asked seriously. Stan considered this for a moment.

"I really don't know," he finally concluded. "I honestly have no idea. He was mean to all of us. He called me a hippy, made anti-Semitic remarks to Kyle, and joked about Kenny being poor. He did this all right in front of us!" he realized. They were both quiet for a few beats as Craig rubbed his thumb over Stan's hand. "Maybe it's because his mom always fed us," Stan wondered in such a serious tone that Craig couldn't help but snort out a laugh.

"You have the weirdest thought process, babe," Craig informed him.

"Well she did!" Stan protested.

"I believe you," Craig told him honestly.

"So do you think there will be food at this thing tomorrow?" Stan asked.

"I have no idea," the other man answered. "I really have no idea what to expect." Stan shifted his legs around and groaned as he had a thought.

"What if someone comes up to me and starts talking to me like we are longs lost buddies but I have no clue who they are? What if I can't even recognize my own friends? It's been so long!" Stan began freaking out. Craig moved and kissed along Stan's jaw to calm him down.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered into the other's ear. "I'm sure Kyle still has a Jew-fro so you can just look out for that," he joked. Stan playfully punched his arm. "I think they make you wear a name tag of what your name was in high school so that way people will know who you are," he reasoned.

"Oh," Stan said in a calmer state. "So I guess that means people won't get to see my zazzy new last name then," he stated.

"Zazzy?" Craig questioned.

"Yeah! You know, it's got zazz!" Stan explained excitedly.

"Stan, go to sleep," Craig said through a semi-smile. Stan laughed and pushed himself as close to Craig as he could. The taller man tightened his hold on him and buried his face in Stan's dark hair. "I love you," he whispered into the ear near his lips.

"I love you too," Stan smiled and let himself be overtaken with sleep.

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**I have chapter two completely written but I still have to type it up so hopefully I will get that done soon. I've been stuck on chapter three for a little while but I'm going to finish this story gosh darn it! I hope you like the story so far! Each chapter is going to have a song or two to go with it that describes the characters or whatnot. You don't have to actually listen to the song you could just read the lyrics… or you know be a jerk and don't pay any attention to the carefully selected songs at all, whatever. Lol! Just kidding… but seriously, read the lyrics at least. As I explained before I'm big on matching songs with scenarios and stuff.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Beauty and the Beast

**A/N- Well a week has gone by and I still haven't finished writing chapter 3 because I'm lazy. I figured I should go ahead and type up and post chapter 2 so that I don't keep people waiting for something that's already done. I feel kinda bad because you guys are so excited about this being a Craig x Stan story and want to know what happens next with them but this chapter doesn't even have them in it. Don't worry they will be back later! Thank you sooo much for the reviews! I only got 4 and two were from guests but they mean a lot! So thanks to Marriot-chan and everlasting-luv for your reviews! Woot! That's right, a shout out. **

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Chapter Songs: "Monster" Dev (Butters/Marjorine), "Fallen Leaves" Billy Talent (Kenny)

Kenny McCormick arose from sleep like a zombie from the dead. The twenty five year old had only slept for about four hours on the bare mattress that lay on the floor of the room he grew up in. He sat on the edge of the mattress raking his hands through his tangled mess of shaggy, greasy blonde hair. He needed to get moving, wake up. He paused his ministrations and looked around the room at the clothes and various objects strewn about the floor. What time is it? He wasn't sure. What day is this? He wasn't entirely sure about that either. He stood up grabbing a shirt off the floor to put over his emaciated body. When was the last time he showered? He wasn't sure of that either. 'Guess I'd better go get a shower,' he thought to himself.

Kenny made sure to grab his lighter and a pack of cigarettes on his way out the door. If he wanted to bathe he was going to have to go someplace else because he didn't have running water in his house. He couldn't keep up with the bill so he gave up trying. As he walked down the street in the mid afternoon taking drags off his cigarette he ignored the curious looks people were giving him when he'd pass. Some looked sympathetic while others looked frightened. He didn't really notice them half the time. He put out his third cigarette when he got to the doorstep of his destination. He knocked a few times on the door and waited.

After a few moments, Mr. Garrison opened the door. The old man frowned when he saw who his visitor was. "Oh, it's you Kenny," he said somewhat disapprovingly. "Marjorine is at work right now," he informed the young man.

"Oh," Kenny seemed surprised at this information. He thought for a moment. "Well, uh, could I use your shower?" he asked anyways. Mr. Garrison rolled his eyes and hesitated for a moment.

"Fine," he relented eventually and stepped aside to allow Kenny to enter his home. "You'd better not steal anything!" Mr. Garrison shouted after him as the young man headed towards the bathroom down the hall. "I'll search you before you leave here!" the old teacher threatened. Kenny ignored the shouts and shut the bathroom door behind him.

He turned around and avoided looking at his reflection in the large mirror above the sink and he began undressing as he turned the water on in the tub and waited for a moment for it to get hot. The dirty blonde always avoided looking at himself because he was afraid of what he would see. Had he spared a glance at the clean reflective surface he would have seen how pale and gaunt his body has become, making him almost skeletal. He would have noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the red scabs which dotted different parts of his body here and there. His nose has become scabbed around the ridges and had the appearance of someone who has had a cold however he hadn't been sick with a cold in years. The veins in his arms stood out so dark against his skin nearly every one of them was clearly visible. Red lines followed some of the veins and there were several red swollen wounds in the middle of both his arms. Before stepping into the shower he regarded his soiled clothing lying on the bathroom floor. He really should have brought a clean change of clothes but he wasn't sure if he had any. Maybe he could get Marjorine to do his laundry for him again. He finally stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash away at least two weeks worth of dirt and grime. He grabbed one of Marjorine's floral scented body washes and lathered himself head to toe.

Things didn't use to be like this for Kenny. When he was in high school he smoked a lot of pot and even sold it for a short while. He couldn't really have cared less about school and would have gone ahead and dropped out but he figured he would need the diploma if he was ever going to get a job. He graduated, albeit just barely, and got himself a job at a gas station. All of his friends went off to college except for Butters so that was who he hung out with most of the time.

When Kenny turned twenty he got a job as a bar tender at the local watering hole and quit at the gas station. In a small town like South Park where there are police officers like Barbrady the manager of the bar was willing to overlook the fact that Kenny was one year short of being twenty one. Working in this new environment introduced the young man to all sorts of different people, some not always the most upstanding of citizens. During his breaks he would indulge in a few drinks himself.

By the time Kenny was twenty one he was being invited to parties by some of the people he met at the bar. He would stay out into the early hours of the morning smoking pot and getting black out drunk then stumble home to sleep until it was time to go to work that night. It wasn't until his mother was arrested for running a meth lab that his older brother Kevin and younger sister Karen moved out on their own. They didn't like the way the rest of the family was headed and decided to get out to make something of themselves. They were right to leave when they did because the next year, when Kenny was twenty two, their father was put in jail for another DUI.

Kenny was twenty three when he started smoking crack and snorting meth at the parties he was going to. He had been saving up his money to buy a car but eventually blew through it all to pay for his drugs so he had to walk or hitch a ride everywhere he went. It didn't take very long for him to become hooked. He would show up to work completely high and have more energy than what his job description called for so he would try to do several things at once, often making a mess. After a few months the manager of the bar took notice of Kenny's sudden weight loss and raw red nose and had to let him go because he couldn't have him working there with a serious drug problem. The blonde would go for days without sleep sometimes while he was on his high and had developed dark circles under his eyes.

Unable to land another real job due to his obvious drug addiction he began doing odd jobs for his old friend's parents. When they had no work for him he would borrow money from whoever he could. If all else failed and he was growing desperate for his next fix he would bum a ride to Denver where he knew a place that he could sell himself or his services for some cash. Sometimes he would get lucky and find a client that would pay him in cocaine. Most recently, in the past six months, he started injecting heroine at the suggestion of one of the prostitutes in the city to allow himself days of sleep since the crack and meth kept him wired. Sometimes while he was tweeking he would wander aimlessly around South Park shouting at things that weren't real, which is why the towns people gave him such strange looks whenever he would pass by. Most took pity on him and remembered him from when he was a child. Others were frightened by him and his strange behavior.

Presently, as Kenny McCormick stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed, he was not under any sort of influence. He had just woken up from his heroine induced sleep and will be able to go for at least the rest of the day before he will start to become violent or paranoid and need to get high again. The naked man reached for the nearest fluffy pink towel and began to dry his body off.

Outside the bathroom, Marjorine came home from work smelling strongly of fresh brewed coffee. "I'm home Mr. Garrison!" she called to the house as she set her purse on the table by the front door.

"I'm in the kitchen," the old man called back in response. "How was work?" he inquired.

"It was okay I suppose," she answered while trying to think about anything memorable that could have happened. Coming up with nothing she settled on saying, "It was a pretty normal day. Nothing very interesting happened." She wandered into the kitchen to see if Mr. Garrison needed help with what he was doing and found him to be unloading the dishwasher.

"Your man is here," he commented as he set a stack of plates on a shelf. Marjorine blushed lightly and was suddenly nervous.

"Is he…?" she trailed off trying to find a term to use. She didn't have to finish the question, however, for the former teacher to know what she was trying to ask.

"He seemed sober enough," he told her. "He's in your bathroom taking a shower."

"Well gee, I sure hope my bathroom wasn't a mess," Marjorine worried while rubbing her knuckles together anxiously. "It would be so embarrassing if I left something out or the shower isn't clean," she continued to fret. Mr. Garrison rolled his eyes at this.

"I'm sure Kenneth has seen much worse things than a mildewy shower or a pair of panties on the floor," he told her. The blonde girl blushed violently at the mention of her panties. Marjorine had become like a daughter to Mr. Garrison. She was the best daughter anyone could ask for. She worked part time at Tweak Brothers Coffee House and was doing really well in her classes at the community college where she studied culinary arts. Sometimes she would bring some of her class work home for Mr. Garrison to taste and he was always so proud of her accomplishments. She never stayed out late, rarely cursed, was always willing to help out around the house, and kept her room clean. One would wonder why her biological parents had disowned her and tossed her out of their house. The only thing that she had done to wrong them was that she had been born a boy and spent the first eighteen years of her twenty five year old life known as Leopold "Butters" Stotch.

When Marjorine was eight years old she was becoming increasingly aware that she felt uncomfortable in her body and that something about her life seemed incredibly wrong. As Butters, she wondered why it wasn't okay to play Hello Kitty Island Adventure while all the other boys in town were playing World of Warcraft. It wasn't until the boys were in need of an undercover spy to gather information the girls were hiding that Butters was able to figure out what about his life had been so wrong. He was dressed up as a girl and sent to the girls' sleepover to spy on them. That night, as he sat among the little girls his age in his lacy green night gown listening to them gossip as they painted his finger nails and played with the hair in his wig he felt more comfortable and happy than he ever had in his life. He began to discover that he really should have been born a female and was trapped in a body that should not belong to him.

Butters knew that there was nothing he could really do about correcting the problem until he turned eighteen and could do things without his parent's consent so he kept up the façade of being a normal boy around other people. When he turned sixteen he began using his allowance money to buy makeup, jewelry, and girls clothes to build up a second wardrobe. At night after his parents had gone to bed he would practice different ways of putting on makeup. There wasn't much he could do about his hair since he had to keep it short but he vowed that as soon as he turned eighteen he was going to start growing it out.

When Butters was seventeen, a junior in high school, he began developing a crush on Kenny McCormick. Kenny was a trouble-maker and would sneak out during lunch to smoke pot and come back inside thinking everything was hilarious the next two class periods, but Butters thought he was the sexiest boy in the whole school. He was already friends with Kenny before he began having a crush on him and would occasionally hang out with him, Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. One day when it was uncomfortably warm inside Cartman's basement Kenny removed his hooded parka in hopes of cooling off. Butters took notice of how good the other boy's slightly toned body looked in the white wife beater he wore. He also couldn't help but stare at Kenny's beautiful blue eyes which were complemented by his messy blonde hair. Even the way Kenny's smile looked like a smug smirk made Butter's think that he was the cutest boy he had ever seen.

On the weekends he wasn't able to see his romantic interest, Butters would pack a book bag and catch a bus to a neighboring town. Once he got there he would find a restroom and change into some of his girl clothes and put some make up on so he could spend the day as a female. His features were already slightly feminine and his body never really filled out like the other boys his age so he was able to pass relatively easily.

When he finally turned eighteen he kept his promise to himself and stopped getting haircuts. After graduating high school he took himself to the doctor and explained how he wanted to begin the transition to female. The doctor had him undergo a few psychological evaluations to be sure he was a good candidate. Once the results were in he had proved to be an excellent candidate and was started on hormone injections. By this point, Butters was now Kenny's best friend since Stan, Kyle, and Eric had left South Park along with everyone else that was in their grade except for Tweek Tweak. He would sometimes try to hint to his poor friend how he felt about him but Kenny never really understood what was meant by it.

Eventually, Butters' developing female qualities started to become noticeable and he had to come clean with his strict conservative Christian parents. When they heard that their son was transgendered and taking estrogen shots in order to become a woman they took it to mean that their son was now dead to them. They did not want a daughter, they had a son named Leopold and that was it. They kicked him out of the house and, not knowing who else to turn to, he sought refuge with Kenny who allowed him to live with him until he figured out what to do. Butters explained his gender transition to Kenny and was met with support.

The McCormick family was so poor they couldn't really afford anything for Butters so Kenny tried to support the two of them on his gas station income. At age nineteen Butters had taken on the new name of Marjorine and was noticeably more female. Marjorine had been afraid to get a job until all the major changes were done going through their processes in her body such as her voice changing. She soon realized she couldn't keep taking up Kenny's paychecks so she thought of another place she could potentially live. It was a long shot but still worth a try.

Marjorine looked up her old elementary school teacher, Mr. Garrison, and went to visit his house one day. She explained her situation to him and asked if he would allow her to live with him. He agreed to the arrangement because not only could he help her out by giving her a place to stay, but he could also offer her valuable advice and guidance when it came to her gender transition. He had undergone a sex change operation himself several years ago and even though he had since gone back to the sex he was born with he could help her with what to expect.

Two months before she turned twenty, Marjorine got a job working at Tweak Brothers Coffee House. Not too long after getting her job she enrolled in the community college. She knew she needed to do something with her life but she couldn't bear to leave Kenny so she kept herself firmly rooted in South Park. For several years she continued saving up her money, running into a few setbacks a couple of times when she let her love for Kenny cloud her best judgment whenever he would ask to borrow a hundred dollars here or there.

Finally, by the time Marjorine turned twenty four she had enough money saved up to pay for breast implants. She tried to get Kenny as involved in the procedure as possible by letting him choose what size she got but he just told her to get whatever she wanted and then disappeared to Denver for a week. Marjorine was beside herself when Kenny went off right before her surgery but ended up choosing a B cup size by herself and Mr. Garrison took care of her while she was recovering.

Now Marjorine stood in front of Mr. Garrison in the kitchen anxiously twirling a segment of her long blonde hair. There was a sober Kenny in her bathroom right this very moment and she wasn't sure what she should say or do. Finally she had a thought and proclaimed, "Oh hamburgers!" Her aquamarine eyes grew wide in fear. "I'm still in my work clothes and he could be out any minute!" With that she rushed off to her bedroom and locked the door behind her.

The blonde girl's room nearly looked like a Sanrio store. Nearly everything she owned was either a pink or Hello Kitty, mostly a combination of both. Quickly, she pushed around clothes in her closet until she settled upon a pink sundress. Once she had changed her outfit she slid her French pedicured feet into a pair of white flats and put on a crystal Hello Kitty necklace to draw attention to her exposed chest and slight cleavage that the V front of the dress provided. She checked her hair and makeup in the mirror on the back of her door and once she deemed it satisfactory she emerged from her room.

Marjorine entered the living room to find Kenny sitting on the couch looking through a magazine wearing nothing but her candy pink bathrobe. She stood still for a moment to stare at his slightly exposed chest and take in his bare feet, his bare calves and messy damp hair. Eventually she made her presence known.

"Kenny!" she exclaimed excitedly as she approached him. He looked up from his magazine and gave that smile that Marjorine thought was irresistible.

"Hey! It's been awhile," he said happily as he put the magazine down to stand up and hug his best friend. As they embraced, Marjorine was concerned with how skinny Kenny was but at the same time was always trying to seduce him and so she made certain that he could feel her breasts pressed against his chest. If he noticed, he didn't say anything about it. Marjorine was thoroughly enjoying the physical contact with Kenny but eventually had to pull away from him.

"So why are you wearing my robe?" she asked after the hug had ended.

"Oh yeah!" he said. He had forgotten he was wearing it. "Would you mind washing the clothes I was wearing earlier?" he inquired sweetly. Marjorine blushed.

"Anything for you Kenny," she told him dreamily.

"Thank you so much!" he gave her another hug which she cherished and went to fetch his soiled clothes. He brought them to her and she threw them in the washer with a load of her own things. The two stood in awkward silence for a few beats.

"Will you stay for dinner?" Marjorine blurted nervously breaking the silence. She could have asked if he would have liked to stay but she is always so desperate for him to stay around her that she ends up sounding like she's begging. Kenny's face lit up instantly.

"Sure I'll hang around for that," he accepted the offer. "I'm going to step outside for a smoke real quick," he told her before stepping out the front door.

"So we're entertaining the town delinquent for dinner, are we?" Mr. Garrison asked from the kitchen entrance.

"I'm sorry Mr. Garrison!" Marjorine apologized quickly. "It just slipped out and I know I should have asked you first! I'll cook if you want, I'm so sorry! I just don't get to see him very often anymore," she continued rambling.

"Jeez Marjorine its okay!" Mr. Garrison tried to console her. "It's not too big of a deal and I'll cook so that you can spend more time with him," he suggested.

"Oh thank you so much!" she exclaimed in glee and hugged the old man.

"Listen sweetie, I want to get serious for a minute," he said quietly and gave her a sympathetic look. She looked at him quizzically. "I know that you fell in love with Kenny when you two were teenagers but you really need to start thinking about finding someone different." Marjorine's eyes widened and she looked horrified.

"Mr. Garrison, no he's-," she began protesting but was interrupted.

"Marjorine that boy you fell in love with is gone. The Kenny McCormick that is standing outside right now is a different man," the old teacher reasoned.

"Well he seems-," the blonde girl started in but was interrupted once more.

"He seems what? Fine? That's right now. What about later when he starts getting desperate for his next high? What would you do if he got violent with you? Or if he got paranoid around you and decided you were a threat and tried to kill you?" Mr. Garrison questioned sternly. Marjorine nearly had tears in her eyes.

"Kenny would never hurt me," she whispered with fear in her voice.

"The Kenny you used to know wouldn't I'm sure," he told her, "but the man that is standing outside this house is certainly capable. Honey, you are naïve and sheltered. You don't know how these people can get. I'm just trying to help you out. You don't know that man the way you think you do and you don't need to get involved with him," the old man warned.

"Kenny is my best friend!" the frightened young woman defended. Mr. Garrison sighed.

"Then were does he go when he disappears for weeks at a time? Hell, where was he when you had your surgery?" he argued. "Where does he get the money to pay for his habits when he isn't getting it from you? Do you even know what he's on? He probably carries a weapon too, most people like him do in case a deal goes bad, and you still don't think he would hurt you? I just don't want to see something bad happen to you, sweetie, I care about you." Mr. Garrison reached out to pat her shoulder. She had her lips pursed and was determined not to cry. They heard the front door open and close so Marjorine turned away from her caretaker and went to check on the laundry to give herself a moment to regain her composure. When she felt she could hold herself together she re entered the living room where Kenny was seated.

"I just put your clothes in the drier," she informed him.

"Awesome! Thank you so much for washing them for me. I'll be glad when they are done though. This free ballin' thing isn't really for me," Kenny confessed. Marjorine blushed and thought for a moment of Kenny's junk rubbing against her bathrobe. She was suddenly envious of the piece of cloth.

"Why don't we go hang out in my room," she suggested. "We could watch a movie or something."

"Sounds good," Kenny grinned. The two made their way to Marjorine's room while Mr. Garrison began cooking dinner. The two began watching the movie at a normal distance apart from each other but eventually Marjorine had scooted herself right up against Kenny. The blonde man didn't seem to acknowledge her being so close to him. Finally, the young woman worked up enough courage to lightly put her hand on Kenny's thigh. The skinny man's leg muscles tensed slightly and Marjorine continued staring forward at the movie blushing furiously. She knew that if she made eye contact with him or in anyway acknowledged what she was doing she wouldn't be able to continue. She gently brought her trembling fingers to Kenny's dick. The blue eyed man could feel the small shaking hand on him and knew exactly where it was going but was unsure of how he wanted to react. It didn't take very long for Marjorine's hand to finally make it to its intended destination. She stared blankly at the T.V. screen, completely scared out of her mind by her actions and intensely focused on feeling everything her little fingers could. She had never taken such a bold step with Kenny before. She was never this direct. Kenny closed his eyes and held his breath as he felt the roaming fingers gingerly ghost over the form of his dick through the fluffy cloth of the bath robe. Once Marjorine had gotten a good idea of the location and position of the organ she cautiously slid her fingers down the length of it in one slow gentle stroke. Kenny let out his breath quietly and continued to do nothing about the girl's actions. Marjorine repeated her action applying slightly more pressure. She felt it stir underneath her fingers. Kenny's breath hitched as he started to become aroused. The blonde girl was nearly ecstatic. She had been waiting to touch Kenny like this since they were seventeen but she had never been able to bring herself to go through with it. To feel Kenny reacting to her in such a positive way was nearly overwhelming. She began to slowly make her way to the front of the robe to slip her hand inside and touch him skin to skin. Kenny repositioned his legs in a way that would give her access. Just as her fingers touched the flap of the robe they heard a voice calling to them.

"Kids! Dinner is ready!" Mr. Garrison hollered to them from down the hall. They instantly drew away from each other.

"Well I guess we should go eat now," Marjorine said quickly to avoid any embarrassing conversation. "Your clothes should be dry by now. Do you want to change before you eat?" she asked. Kenny's sickly pale complexion had a tinge of red. He sniffed slightly.

"Yeah, uh, that would be great," he answered without making eye contact. He shifted a little in order to conceal his semi-hard on.

"Alright I'll be right back," Marjorine told him as she hurriedly left the room to grab Kenny's clothes out of the drier. She returned to her bedroom and placed the small pile of clothing on her bed near the embarrassed young man. "See you in a bit," she stated as she left the room.

"Yeah, thanks," Kenny called back to her. He changed into his own clothes and then wandered into the dining room where Mr. Garrison and the blushing blonde girl were already seated at the table.

"I hope you like salad and lasagna," Mr. Garrison said to Kenny as he took his seat.

"Yeah it looks really good," Kenny told him as he sniffled some more.

"Are you okay, Kenny?" Mr. Garrison asked in a way that showed concern but that also let on that he knew exactly what was wrong with the emaciated man. Kenny gave him a look of warning.

"I'm fine," he said in a very serious tone. "Sometimes my allergies act up," he stated. Mr. Garrison lifted his brows at the obvious lie.

"Ah, well I've got some allergy medicine you could take," he offered. "It's prescription but I can't imagine _you_ would have a problem with that, right?" he added airily. Kenny gave the old man a look that could have killed as he clenched his fists under the table. Marjorine sensed the danger in the situation and tried to start a new topic. She was afraid of Kenny getting too mad and leaving. Every time he left she never knew when she would see him again. Mr. Garrison always made sure she never saw Kenny when he was at his worst. He was beginning to think that maybe she should be shown the ugly truth in order to make her realize she is wasting her time on him.

"So Mr. Garrison how are things at the school?" she asked in an effort to change the subject. Kenny sniffed again as he began picking at the food on his plate.

"It's going well," he answered. He still taught fourth grade at South Park elementary. "You know, your class is having a reunion soon. Are you going to go?" he inquired. Marjorine was shocked.

"Our class?" she questioned as she gestured between herself and Kenny. The blonde man paused from pushing the food around on his plate to pay closer attention to the conversation.

"Yes," Mr. Garrison confirmed. "I believe its next weekend," he told them. Marjorine sat for a moment contemplating this new information.

"Well gee, it sure would be nice to see the fellas again," she mused. "You know, Eric, Stan, and Kyle," she elaborated. Kenny made an amused snorting sound.

"Yeah that would be interesting," the young man murmured sarcastically. Marjorine gave him a confused look but continued mulling the thought over in her head for a moment.

"I'm going to go," she finally stated. "It'll be good for the fellas to finally meet the real me," she added with a soft smile.

"Good for you," Mr. Garrison reassured her.

"Are you going to go Kenny?" she asked excitedly.

"I don't know," he stated curtly, standing from his seat. "I might be busy," he said walking toward the front door. Marjorine began to panic.

"Where are you going?" she asked quickly.

"Smoke," was all he said as he shut the door behind him. The blonde girl looked upset as she returned to the table.

"Did I do something wrong? Why is he mad at me?" she asked weakly.

"Oh honey, he's not mad at you. He's just getting irritable," Mr. Garrison soothed.

"But why? Everything was going great," she questioned.

"I know," he said. "He probably is starting to need to get high again. That's just what happens," he reasoned.

"Do you know what he is on, Mr. Garrison?" she asked innocently. The old man shook his head.

"I have a few guesses but I'm not one hundred percent certain. Either way I don't think you should know the answer to that question," he told her.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I just think it would upset you more if you knew," he answered honestly. She looked frightened for a moment.

"Can he spend the night please?" she begged.

"Absolutely not," the old man told her firmly. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"I just hate not being able to see him. Whenever he finally does come around I barely get to spend time with him before he's leaving again," she whispered.

"I know sweetie," Mr. Garrison said sympathetically. "I just don't want you to be around him when he's high. That's why I send him away. I especially don't want you to be around him right when he starts needing to get high again because he could be dangerous. He's starting to get that way now," he told her. She was staring at him with wide eyes.

"What do you mean you send him away?" she asked in disbelief.

"I mean when he comes here out of his mind on drugs asking for you I make him leave. I don't want you to see him like that," he answered.

"Why would you do that?" she cried. "I love him with all my heart and I never get to see him because you send him away?" she asked shrilly.

"The person that comes to the door is not the Kenny McCormick you fell in love with, Marjorine. You don't want to know that person," he warned. Marjorine was sobbing by this point. "If you love him so much why don't you give him an intervention?" he asked.

"Because," she sobbed, "I don't want to make him mad because then he will leave and I will never see him again!"

"Jesus Christ, Marjorine!" Mr. Garrison shouted exasperatedly. "Maybe I should let you see him when he's high just so you will realize he is not the same person and move on with your life! You could do so much better! Kenny is a dangerous person to be around and I don't want you to get hurt God damnit!" he yelled. Marjorine gave him a tearful look before standing and walking towards the front door. She stepped onto the front stoop where Kenny was standing with his cigarette. He gave her a skeptical look as he blew smoke out of his nose and mouth. He could tell she was crying but at the moment he didn't really care to ask why. She moved towards him and snuggled up to him in a desperate hug. His body tensed at the contact.

"I wish you could stay the night," she cried into his chest.

"Why?" he asked quickly. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," she replied looking up at him through wet eyelashes. "I just wish I could spend more time with you," she admitted.

"I can't stay," he said flatly. "I've got stuff to do," he stated.

"Kenny," she said softly. "I really care about you." She gently took hold of his hand. He yanked his hand out of her grip and backed away from her.

"What are you doing?" he questioned with a wild look in his eyes. "Are you trying to take me somewhere? Are you trying to turn me in?" he asked in a frightened manner. Marjorine looked stunned.

"No! No," she protested. "I'm just telling you how much you mean to me," she defended.

"I've gotta go," he put his cigarette out under his shoe. "If I stay here they are going to find me. I can't let them find me," he looked around frantically.

"Who will find you?" Marjorine questioned.

"I can't tell you. You might be one of them," he whispered. He took off down the street towards his house leaving Marjorine emotionally drained and confused. She continued sobbing as she watched him run down the street. After a second glance back toward her front door she descended the stoop steps onto the sidewalk and began following Kenny back to his house. She knew Mr. Garrison wouldn't approve of her pursuing the young man like this but she couldn't stand to see him go yet again

Marjorine had remained far enough behind Kenny that he was unaware he had been followed. The frightened blonde girl didn't even have a visual on him as she traveled the streets of South Park in the dark but she knew he was retreating back to his house. By the time she got to his front lawn he had already locked himself inside the home and gone to his bedroom in the back. Marjorine crept to the rear of the house and peered in through the window that she knew belonged to Kenny. Inside she saw Kenny sitting on the edge of his mattress on the floor with a piece of cloth tied tightly around his upper arm. He was in the process of injecting the contents of a syringe into his lower arm. Once the syringe was empty he placed it on the floor by his mattress and untied his arm letting himself fall back onto his bedding. Marjorine began to panic and raced to the front door. She tried to open it but discovered it to be locked. Having used to reside in the McCormick house she knew that there was a spare key hidden behind a loose brick.

She let herself in through the front door and cautiously made her way to Kenny's bedroom through the dark house. Her only light source as she maneuvered around tattered furniture was the moonlight streaming in from a few of the dirty windows that had their blinds up. When she finally reached the bedroom she paused in the doorway to assess her surroundings. Clothes were strewn everywhere and there were some empty beer bottles and snack wrappers among the debris. Kenny's mattress lay on the floor in the corner by the window as it always had and was unmade. There were some blankets in heaps in various places on the mattress and a pillow with no pillowcase was in its correct place under Kenny's head. As she made her way towards the still man she noticed several lighters on the floor as well as a couple of different glass pipes. When she got right up to Kenny she sat on the floor beside him and noticed a small pile of needles on the floor next to her. She scooted away from them in fear.

"Kenny," she whispered softly, placing one of her hands gently on his face. He turned his head slightly towards her and looked at her with vacant eyes. His breathing was very slow and even. "Why do you do this Kenny?" she asked shakily. Her only response was more blank staring and he slowly closed his eyes and reopened them. "Don't you know," the blonde girl paused to draw up her courage. "Don't you know how much I love you?" she finally asked. She climbed over him onto his mattress and sat straddling his stomach and looking down at his face, which remained turned toward where she had been positioned next to him. She turned his face to look at her again and she leaned down and placed a loving kiss on his lips. Kenny didn't respond to her kiss. His body felt heavy and he couldn't seem to process any thoughts or actions very quickly. Even if he did manage to have a thought, his body felt too lethargic to actually say or do much of anything.

Marjorine continued kissing Kenny's lips and while putting one of her hands out on the mattress to support her weight she felt something hard under the blankets next to her. She stopped kissing the unresponsive man and looked in the directing of the blankets. Marjorine pushed them aside and revealed a small handgun lying on the mattress beside them.

"Oh my God!" she whispered in shock. She looked back down into the distant blue eyes of the man she loved. Mr. Garrison was right. Marjorine was very naïve and she really didn't know the person that called himself Kenny McCormick anymore. She didn't even realize that had she come into the house before Kenny had become sedated he would have assumed the person walking through the door was someone out to get him. He had been involved in the drug scene for a few years now and the drug world is not exactly known for its friendly business. Kenny McCormick has made some enemies. In his frantic mind set he wouldn't have thought twice before reaching under his blankets for the gun he kept hidden there and automatically shooting whoever came into his room.

Marjorine never realized the dangerous position she put herself in. Kenny had been staring at her for nearly five minutes looking like he wanted to say something. Eventually he got his body to communicate to her and managed to tell her two words. "Tur' me," he slurred. She took this to mean "turn me" and pushed him into a position where he was laying on his side. Once she had finished placing him comfortably she lay down behind him with her body pressed against his. She draped one arm over his stomach and stroked his arm that was closest to her hand.

Marjorine layed with Kenny for about an hour until she realized she should be getting back home before Mr. Garrison had a heart attack. She crawled off the mattress and returned Kenny's gun to its hiding place. She looked at Kenny and saw that he was sleeping. Kneeling down, she placed a kiss on his forehead. "I love you," she whispered before turning to leave the house. Just in case, she locked the door behind her and then made her way home.

It was about midnight when Marjorine quietly came in through the front door of Mr. Garrison's house. She was surprised to find the living room lights on and a very concerned looking Mr. Garrison sitting in his recliner. "I thought you would have been asleep by now," Marjorine admitted.

"How could I go to sleep when I don't know where you have run off to with a drug addict?" he questioned angrily. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. The blonde choked down a sob and stared at the floor.

"He didn't ask me to go with him. I followed him. He probably doesn't even know I was there," she said softly.

"You followed him while he was like that? Do you have any common sense Marjorine?" Mr. Garrison was shocked.

"Nothing bad happened!" she shouted. She was finally able to look at the old man. "I followed him to his house. I saw him inject something into his arm, but after that he was gone. I went inside after he injected himself and just talked to him and lay with him," she recounted, leaving out the details about her kissing the drugged up man and finding the gun. "I told him I love him. He won't even ever know will he?" she asked. Mr. Garrison shook his head. He stood from his chair and made his way over to her.

"Oh sweetie," he said gently as he hugged her. "Let's just go to sleep. You've had a rough night. It always ends up being emotional whenever he comes around," he observed. Marjorine bid him goodnight and went to take a hot shower and change into her Hello Kitty pajamas.

* * *

A few days later, as Marjorine was walking home from work listening to her mp3 player she got distracted thinking about her upcoming reunion and bumped into another person on the sidewalk. The bump knocked one of her ear buds out of her ear so she clearly heard the man's apology. Instantly she froze in her tracks and she felt a drop in her stomach. She quickly turned around to confirm that the person really was who she thought it was. "No problem," she said uneasily. "Dad," she added to her statement.

Now it was the man's turn to freeze in his steps. Mr. Stotch turned around to give the young lady a second look. He was certain he had never seen this girl before. He took in the Tweak Bros. apron she had on and her blonde hair which she wore in low pigtails. Nothing about this girl looked familiar until he looked into her eyes. He could not mistake those frightened aquamarine eyes. "My God," he whispered in shock. Upon first inspection he had thought the girl standing a few feet away from him was just an average twenty five year old female on her way home from work, but now he realized that this young lady was actually his son. Mr. Stotch hadn't seen or heard from his son since the day he kicked him out of the house when he was eighteen. "Butters?" he inquired in an awe struck manner. The girl shook her head.

"My name is Marjorine," she told him. He continued to look dumbfounded. "Marjorine Stotch," she added.

"You're still using our last name?" he asked. She nodded.

"Well I'm not married, what other last name would I use?" she asked, although immediately in her head she wished her last name was McCormick.

"I- I don't know," her father stammered. He seemed to be handling the situation like he would if dealing with a stray animal. He seemed intrigued with his find but was using caution to avoid scaring his creature away. Marjorine caught onto this.

"Did you want to talk to me?" she asked forwardly. "Obviously you want something to come of this encounter or you would have left by now," she stated. She wasn't going to walk on eggshells around her father. He had already done his worst to her and she no longer cared about what she said to him. What was he going to do, ground her?

"Uh," he seemed taken aback by her straight-forwardness and contemplated his next move. Marjorine stood staring at him with intensity. "Would you-," he began then cut off, reconsidering his words. He chuckled nervously then tried again, "Your mother made dinner. I was just out picking up some rolls," he held up the shopping bag he had been holding the whole time. "Would you like to come eat with us?" he finally asked. Marjorine continued staring at her father in disbelief.

"Oh," she said not knowing what else to respond with. She intensely debated whether or not she would accept the dinner offer. After a few moments of silence she removed her work apron and hung it over her arm. "Sure," she finally said. "I'll go." Stephen Stotch looked relieved as Marjorine began walking with him in the opposite direction of her home. As they walked she fished her cell phone out of her purse and sent a text to Mr. Garrison to let him know she wasn't coming directly home. He responded asking if she was with Kenny and she just replied back that it wasn't him and she would tell him later.

The two walked in relative silence occasionally engaging in small talk. When they reached the house Marjorine felt a shiver go down her back. She hadn't been inside this house in seven years nor had she had any contact with her parents. "Well here we are," Stephen announced nervously. He opened the door and led the way into the living room.

"Is that you Stephen?" Linda Stotch called from the kitchen.

"Yeah it's me," he answered. "We are going to be having a guest for dinner tonight," he called to her.

"Oh?" she questioned emerging from the kitchen with a dish towel in her hands. She saw the pretty blonde girl standing awkwardly next to her husband and gave him a confused look. "Who is this?" she asked him.

"This is Marjorine Stotch," he informed her. Linda's eyes widened and she dropped the dish towel to the floor as she moved her hands to cover her mouth. Marjorine observed her mother's reaction but remained where she stood. "Look at you," her mother whispered in awe after a moment. "You look beautiful," she said still amazed. Marjorine hadn't been expecting to hear that reaction.

"I don't understand," she told them in frustration. "Why are you two acting like this? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me. You said that Butters was dead to you and you would never have a daughter," she recounted angrily. Mr. and Mrs. Stotch gave each other a forlorn look

"It took us a really long time," Stephen explained. "We just didn't understand."

"We talked to a lot of people," Linda told the confused blonde girl. "We went to the church for some answers and we spoke with counselors for others," she looked back over at her husband who gave her a reassuring smile. "We finally came to understand everything that had happened and we accepted it," she smiled warmly. "I don't know how I missed all of the obvious signs when you were growing up," Linda shook her head.

"Well if you accepted it then why didn't you find me and apologize or something?" Marjorine shouted in disbelief.

"It had been years," her father explained. "We had no idea where you were staying or even if you were still in this state," his voice wavered for a moment. "We thought we would never see you again," he admitted solemnly.

"And you couldn't call because I changed cell phone providers and got a new number," Marjorine suddenly realized. Her parents nodded.

"So do you have your own place here in South Park?" Linda asked curiously.

"No," Marjorine answered. "I've been living with Mr. Garrison since I was nineteen."

"Mr. Garrison?" Stephen asked shocked.

"Mmhmm," Marjorine confirmed. "I stayed with Kenny for a little while right after I was kicked out," she added.

"You stayed with Kenny McCormick?" her mother asked fearfully. Marjorine smiled sadly.

"He was okay then. That was before he started taking drugs," she assured them. Her parents looked relieved.

"Well," Linda said as she picked up her forgotten dish towel. "Dinner is ready."

Later that night Marjorine's parents dropped her off at Mr. Garrison's house so she didn't have to walk home in the dark. She gave them her new cell phone number and they agreed to meet up again sometime. When she entered the living room she once again saw that her old teacher had waited up for her but he was much more relaxed than last time.

"So who were you with?" he asked casually.

"My parents," she told him in a tone that clearly let on she was still in trepidation from her encounter.

"Seriously?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I ran into my dad on the sidewalk when I was on the way home from work. I ended up going back to the house with him for dinner. They said they have accepted it. They're okay with it," she said in a daze.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked. He was afraid that she was planning on moving back in with them. He really didn't want to part ways with the only person he had ever viewed as his own child.

"Well I agreed to meet up with them every now and then to slowly let them back into my life," she sighed. Suddenly she caught onto what Mr. Garrison must have been thinking. "I'm not moving back in with them if that's what you are worried about," she smirked.

"Of course I'm not worried about that!" he defended. "Now give me your apron so I can throw it in the wash!" he demanded and trudged off to the laundry room. Marjorine smiled to herself.

"I wonder how crazy everyone else's lives will have turned out to be when I see them at the reunion," she mused to herself then brought her apron to Mr. Garrison in the laundry room so he could add it to the next load.

* * *

**A/N- So what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Questions or comments? Review or message me to let me know! There's only going to be one more chapter dedicated to a back story and then I will get on to the actual reunion. **


	3. Chapter 3: The Hidden One

**A/N: Well I finally finished it! I'm not sure how I feel about it. I had everything all in my head and I am not sure if it translated to paper quite the way I wanted it to. I rewrote this once also. I had like 4 or 5 pages written then I was like, "Nah! I don't like how this is turning out!" so I started over. Hopefully the finished product presented to you here is good. Umm… I guess just let me know what you think in the review box below! Thanks to everyone that has been reading and reviewing! Y'all are awesome! I would also like to apologize for how long it took to post this chapter. Normally I don't have anything going on in my life but I just flew down to Florida for 5 days to visit my fiancé and stuff… so yeah.**

* * *

Chapter Song: "The CIA Is Still Trying to Kill Me" Non Phixion

A young, dark-haired nurse approached the commons area of the South Park Mental Institution clutching a patient's file tightly in her hand. This being her first day on the job she couldn't help but feel apprehensive before meeting each patient she had been assigned for the day. Some of the patients were entirely in a world of their own and completely oblivious to their surroundings while others were frighteningly loud and belligerent. When she finally reached the noisy commons area she took a moment to check inside the file she was holding to glance at the picture of her next patient. The young woman scanned the crowded space until her gaze fell upon the individual she was looking for. She took a deep breath and began making her way over towards the patient.

She found herself approaching a pale young man with wildly messy blonde hair. He wasn't wearing a hospital gown like some of the other patients. He had actually been given an institution issued outfit which consisted of a grey zip up hoodie and matching grey sweat pants. This indicated that he was a long-term patient; someone that was not going to be released anytime soon. He sat on the edge of a couch staring straight ahead intently, his wide, dark circled eyes mesmerized by something unseen by anyone else in the room. He had the sleeves of his loose hoodie pushed up past his elbows and a long white scar that went from his wrist to his elbow could be seen on the inside of his left arm. His lips were moving occasionally as if he was engaged in a conversation even though none of the other patients were paying him any attention.

The nurse finally stood next to him at the couch. She watched him for another moment and heard him say, "Don't tell me that. I- I don't want you to tell me that," in a frightened whisper. She warily gathered her bearings and put on her professional face.

"Mr. Tweak? I'm Alexis and I'm going to be taking you to get your medication and then see Dr. Murphy," she informed him. The blonde young man continued staring ahead in his trance as if he hadn't heard her. "Mr. Tweak?" she asked again to get his attention. He remained unresponsive so she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The response to her gesture was immediate.

The blonde jumped away as if burned and screeched, "Jesus Christ! Don't touch me!" His large frightened hazel eyes fell upon Alexis and he suddenly seemed more terrified. "Gah!" he shouted as he clutched his wild hair and pulled on it. "I don't know you!" he removed one of his hands from his hair and pointed an accusing finger at the nurse. "I know everyone that works here and I've never seen you before! You must be a spy sent from the government to learn my secrets! Oh God! Y- you're going to rape me and torture me so I'll talk! Nnngh!" He had backed himself up to the corner of the couch in an attempt to escape and was breathing erratically. Alexis was stunned.

"Mr. Tweak," she attempted to reason but was interrupted.

"How do you know who I am?" the young man demanded in his strained voice.

"I'm a nurse," Alexis explained calmly. "You don't know me because I'm new. Today is my first day here." The patient lowered himself back onto the couch and looked offended as he absorbed the information he was given. Suddenly he got that dazed look back on his face and focused his eyes on something Alexis couldn't see.

"Yes they- ah!- should have warned me about this," he responded after being silent for a moment.

"What?" the nurse asked carefully. The patient seemed engaged in a conversation with someone that wasn't there.

"Jesus Christ!" the blonde shouted after another beat of silence. He seemed upset by whatever his invisible conversation partner had said. "No, man! Gah! I don't want that to happen!" he responded pleadingly. His lips twitched into a wicked smirk for a second that looked incredibly out of place on him before it vanished just as quickly as it had come. His eyes became more focused and he looked back up at the nurse. Alexis was frozen in place unable to tear her eyes away from the patient in front of her.

"So…," she trailed off for a moment. "Medication and doctor visit?" she suggested uncertainly. The blonde shook his head spastically, his wild hair whipping around.

"I can't trust you," he informed her. He glanced sideways and spotted a nurse that he did recognize. "Nick! Gah!" he shouted. The nurse, Nick, looked over in the direction in which he heard his name shouted. He saw the new girl standing near the blonde man with a chart in her hands and had a good guess as to what was going on.

"What's up, Tweek?" he asked once he was near the couch.

"Nng! It's time for m- my pills and appointment but- gah!- I don't know her!" he shrieked and pointed a bony finger at Alexis again. Nick gave the female nurse an apologetic look before turning back to Tweek.

"I'm sorry about that Tweek. I'll take you if you would like," Nick soothed him. The blonde nodded his head jerkily to accept the offer.

"Why didn't they tell me about this? She could be sent from the government! She wants to get inside my brain! Jesus Christ!" Tweek complained. Nick shook his head.

"She's not a spy she's just a nurse like me. How about she comes along with us so you can get comfortable with her?" Nick suggested.

"Gah! As long as you keep an eye on her," Tweek relented.

"I will," the male nurse assured him. "Let's go now you're going to be late for your appointment," he said as he gestured for the other two to follow him while walking towards the door. Alexis wasn't sure what to think exactly of what had just happened. She certainly was having the most interesting first day of work she has ever experienced. Tweek rose from the couch and began walking with the two and began walking with the two nurses towards the desk where the patients were given their medication. The nervous blonde made sure to stay far away from the new nurse as they walked in case she decided to attack him.

Once Nick reached the desk he told the nurse that was stationed there that he would need the medication for Tweek Tweak. The heavy-set elderly woman pulled a hot plate and small pot out of one of the desk drawers and then went about collecting the various pills the blonde had to ingest and placing them in a small paper cup. Once the cocktail of drugs was completed she began the process of bringing a small pot of water to a boil.

"This is how we give Tweek his meds," Nick explained to a very confused Alexis. She watched the entire process in a silent curiosity. The water boiled for a minute or two before it was removed from the heated surface and was set aside to cool down. "Tweek doesn't like to drink water unless it has been boiled first to purify it," Nick stated. Tweek cautiously nodded his head in agreement.

"There's chemicals in the water. You can taste it! Nngh!" he exclaimed fearfully before going into a series of twitches.

"Oh," was all Alexis could think to respond with. The trio moved along as soon as Tweek swallowed all of his pills and travelled down a hallway which was comprised of several offices. They stopped in front of room 204. The placard on the door informed passers-by that this office belonged to Dr. Jack Murphy, P.H.D. Nick knocked rapidly on the door to the office and was answered promptly by a muffled voice telling him to enter.

Nick opened the door slowly and entered the cozy office space. Alexis handed the file she had been clutching over to the doctor. "Tweek Tweak is here to see you sir," she announced.

"I see," the doctor commented curiously. "Tweek you're twenty minutes late and seem to have acquired an entourage," the middle aged man mused.

"Sorry about getting him here late," Nick apologized quietly.

"It's okay," Dr. Murphy assured him. Nick appeared relieved.

"Well I guess we'll be going then," the male nurse announced as he turned toward the door with Alexis. "See you next time Tweek," he added as he waved.

"It was nice to meet you Tweek," Alexis smiled back before exiting. Tweek let out a small yelp. Dr. Murphy gestured towards one of the two chairs that were placed in front of his desk.

"Please have a seat Tweek," he said warmly before situating himself behind his desk and opening Tweek's file to begin taking notes on today's session. The blonde quickly took the seat farthest to the left and watched the doctor prepare his paper work. He felt comfortable in Dr. Murphy's office and felt a bond with the older man. Dr. Murphy became his psychiatrist when he was first placed in the institution seven years ago.

Tweek has never been what would be considered normal by society's standards. As a child he became addicted to caffeine and would feed his addiction by consuming countless cups of coffee every day. It was primarily his parents' fault he got so bad because they owned the local coffee shop and had no problem giving their young son as much coffee as he wanted. By the time Tweek was eight he was so wired up on caffeine he began suffering from body tremors and twitches. He was unable to sleep at night and became a chronic insomniac, spending his nights awake with nothing to do but think about everything.

Two problems began to develop at this time. The first problem was that Tweek began having irrational fears based on his over-imaginative thought processes late at night. He would come up with wild conspiracy theories and try to research them alone online only to find out he was not the only one to be thinking these things. The second issue that arose was the appearance of the gnomes. When he would tell his parents about hearing and seeing gnomes in his bedroom late at night they figured it was just their eight year old concocting imaginary friends. Mr. and Mrs. Tweak didn't see a problem until they suddenly had to keep buying new underwear for their son because he would come to them absolutely terrified and shouting about the gnomes stealing his clothing. Mrs. Tweak was irritated with her son the third time she had to make a trip to the store for new underwear for him. When she got home with her purchase she marched into Tweek's room to confront him.

"I just bought you new boxers!" she shouted while waving her shopping bag around. "This is the third time this month, son! What the hell are you doing with your underwear?" she demanded. Tweek's eyes were full of fear and confusion.

"I don't do anything with them!" he sobbed. "I told you, the gnomes come into my room at night and they take them," he protested.

"You expect me to believe that gnomes come into your room just to take your underwear?" she asked heatedly.

"I saw them do it!" he cried. Tweek clutched his blonde hair and pulled. "Jesus Christ! Do you think if I put a lock on the drawer it would keep them out?" he asked fearfully.

"Tweek, I don't know what you are doing but it has to stop," his mother stated firmly.

"Gah! I'm not doing anything!" he screamed. "I don't understand why this is happening!" he began to break down and sob uncontrollably. Mrs. Tweak was concerned and felt bad for yelling at her son. She sat down next to him on his bed and held her scared eight year old in her arms.

"Shh, it's okay," she whispered as she rubbed his back. "Everything will be okay," she cooed. A few days later Mrs. Tweak was in the back yard tending to her flowers when she noticed a patch of blackened grass in the corner of the yard. Upon closer inspection it looked like there had been a small fire on the grass. Just as she was wondering what could possibly be the reason her grass was burned something caught her eye. She reached down and picked up a fragment of partially burnt cloth which had the same green plaid design as a pair of boxers she knew her son had. It was at that moment she realized that, no, everything would not be okay.

Tweek's mother never said anything to anyone about finding out her son was somehow burning his underwear in the back yard and under the impression gnomes were responsible. When Tweek began middle school he also began exhibiting obsessive compulsive behaviors. He frequently washed his hands, checked door locks multiple times, and began counting the steps on stairs. Both of Tweek's parents had to learn how to help their son live with his new rituals. They discovered he preferred even numbers and had a fixation on the number four. Tweek's friends, Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan, and Token Black, tried their best to help him too. Everyone worked together to get Tweek off of caffeine in hopes of getting him to stop mentioning the gnomes.

Once Tweek had stopped consuming caffeine for good he seemed to stabilize in a way. He still definitely had obsessive compulsive disorder but it wasn't getting any worse. While he rarely ever mentioned the gnomes he did spout off his conspiracy theories at random moments. His school reports were never dull. His last year of middle school he ended up presenting a research project in some class which turned into the spastic blonde fearfully warning his classmates that the boxes cable companies give you to hook your TV up actually have audio and video recording devices in them. He said that the government watches and listens to you through the boxes looking for terrorists and spies. If you do anything illegal, they will know. His rant began to morph into something else entirely when he introduced the idea of the government agents also being perverts that watch you undress as they touch themselves. If they like what they see they could have you taken from your home and sold into the Black Market for prostitution. That was about the time the teacher made him sit down.

Junior year of high school was when Tweek began to really fall apart. The frightened blonde's obsessive compulsive disorder began taking on new rituals; he had to wash his hands before leaving any room that had a sink in it. Every morning he would only get out of bed if the time ended in an even number. The simple act of going downstairs for breakfast became a struggle due to the fact that there were thirteen steps on the stair case. As soon as Tweek reached the bottom of the stairs and whispered the last number he counted he would start into a full-on panic attack and have to be soothed by his father until he was calm enough to finish getting ready for school.

Much to his parents' dismay, Tweek's paranoia began controlling his diet. The teenager became pale and thin when he ceased consuming meat and animal products. He was convinced he would be given a disease by eating something from a potentially infected animal. Eventually his distrust in people meant he wouldn't eat or drink anything that he couldn't see every ingredient in.

The moment Tweek's parents decided they needed to take their son to a psychiatrist came on a day towards the end of his junior year of high school. The blonde seventeen year old had been sitting in class next to his friend Clyde taking notes on the teacher's lecture. Suddenly, his pencil paused in his hand and he stared ahead in an unfocused daze before pulling back his fist and punching Clyde in the jaw. Clyde was in tears, Tweek acted as if nothing happened, the students were in a frenzy, and the teacher was at a loss for words. No one seemed to be able to get Tweek's attention for while and it wasn't until the teacher was screaming at him that she was going to call the school's resource officer to take him away that he jumped in fright and looked at her with wide confused eyes.

"Gah! What's going on?" he shouted.

"Go to the principal's office immediately Mr. Tweak before I have you escorted there!" the teacher yelled.

"What? Why?" he questioned fearfully. He finally noticed Clyde clutching his face and sobbing next to him. "Jesus Christ! What happened? Are you okay?" he asked in concern. Clyde gave him a horrified look.

"What the hell, dude?" the brunette shouted. In the principal's office Tweek explained that he had no idea what had happened to Clyde. All he knew was the gnomes were invading his classroom. The principal called Tweek's parents and they took him to a psychiatrist that day. Later in the week, after undergoing several tests and analysis, Tweek was diagnosed with schizophrenia.

When violent outbursts became a regularity with Tweek his psychiatrist recommended he find a physically demanding hobby in order to release his pent up frustrations. This was the reason the teenager disliked his first doctor, the one outside of the institution. Tweek really enjoyed learning to play the drums when he was seventeen, but the reason for his violent outbursts wasn't that he was angry. He would stab, punch, bite, and set things on fire because the gnomes told him to, not because he was an angst ridden teenager. The mysterious creatures would scream at him to do bad things and if he resisted they threatened to hurt him and his family. He had no choice but to follow orders.

By the time Tweek's senior year of high school was well underway he was a wreck. The only time he left the house was to go to school and he was at least an hour late every morning because his obsessive compulsive rituals were so time consuming. The paranoid blonde was such a picky eater he barely ate anything at all and was becoming frightfully skinny. He was constantly in fear of the gnomes making him do something he didn't want to do, like the time he tried to stab Token with a pencil. The psychiatrist noticed how Tweek's condition wasn't getting any better and suggested to the Tweaks that they have him committed. The spastic teenager was already prescribed to a powerful anti-psychotic but still unable to function properly in everyday life, not to mention the fact that his behavior was becoming dangerous. Mr. and Mrs. Tweak agreed with the doctor but pleaded with him to at least let their son finish his senior year of high school. They wanted for him to at least have the normalcy of every other eighteen year old and be able to walk with his class at graduation. They assured the doctor they would be able to keep their son under control for just a few short months. The doctor reluctantly agreed.

Tweek was scheduled to be admitted to the South Park mental institution two days after his graduation ceremony. The ceremony came and went smoothly and everyone went home happy. The night before his appointment, Tweek was alone in his house practicing on his drum set. His father was closing at Tweak Bros. and his mother was grocery shopping and would probably be home in the next hour. Out of nowhere the gnomes began speaking to him again. They would hiss threateningly into his ear telling him his parents had left him for good and would never return. Why would they want to waste their time on him? He's stupid for believing what his parents say. The gnomes told him his friends were all leaving for college and they would never speak to him again. They know everything about him. They could tell the C.I.A. everything about him and then he would be hunted for his secrets. They couldn't risk having someone out there in the world that knows AIDS was created in a laboratory by scientists as a part of biological warfare but it was accidentally released into the populace. The gnomes screeched at him that no one could be trusted.

When Mrs. Tweak came home from grocery shopping she dropped her bags and screamed at the scene that was waiting for her in her living room. The wall that was facing the front door had been painted with bloody, dripping words that said "Trust No One". Lying on the floor in front of the wall was her ghostly pale son shallowly breathing in a pool of blood which seemed to originate from one arm that was so coated in the hot sticky liquid it was impossible to make out what had happened. The frightened woman called 911 and immediately crouched beside the bloody blonde to make sure he was still alive.

When Tweek regained consciousness the next morning in the hospital he was terrified. He studied the white bandage that was wrapped around his entire forearm. Mrs. Tweak entered the small hospital room with a cup of coffee and noticed her son was now awake.

"Tweek!" she whispered excitedly.

"Mom," he rasped. "Why am I here?" he questioned. His mother's eyes watered a bit.

"You hurt yourself, baby," she said as calmly as she could manage. Suddenly, Tweek remembered all of the previous night's events.

"I didn't do that!" he whispered as his eyes widened. "The gnomes! Jesus Christ, nngh! They were hurting me!" he defended to his mother. She was having a hard time keeping her tears locked away.

"No sweetie," she shook her head. "There were no gnomes. You did that," she explained as her voice began to crack. Tweek appeared exasperated.

"Gah! Of course the gnomes did it!" he half shouted. "Why would I do that to myself? Only a crazy person would cut themselves open and use their own blood to write on the walls!" he ranted. His mother let out a half sob half laugh as her tears finally rolled down her face. She felt like she was in a daze. It was finally hitting her now insane her son was and she wasn't really sure how to react. She choked out another sob laugh as her tears streamed down her cheeks and she patted her only child on the head and left the room. Mrs. Tweak wandered over to the nurse's station and asked them to page Tweek's doctor.

"Mrs. Tweak, is everything okay?" he asked after seeing how distraught the middle-aged woman had become. She looked at him and tried to appear collected but failed as her voice was shaky when she spoke.

"I don't want you to release him to go home," she said. "Please put him in the institution," she begged. The ER doctor was surprised by her request until he checked his young patient's medical records and saw that the teenager had already been ordered by his psychiatrist to be committed.

"Don't worry ma'am," he assured her, "we'll take care of him. As soon as he has healed up a little more and once he's taken off of suicide watch he will be transported to the institution to set up residence." She gave him a relieved smile.

"I'm going home now," she told him then left the hospital behind.

* * *

Presently, as Tweek sat fidgeting in the chair farthest to the left in Dr. Murphy's office, the psychiatrist looked over the notes he took during the last session he had with the paranoid blonde.

"Tweek?" the doctor asked off-hand. The young man yelped and turned his attention toward his doctor. "I've noticed that you always sit in the left chair. Why don't you ever sit in the one on the right?" he inquired with interest. Tweek shifted nervously in the chair for a moment and fumbled with the zipper on his jacket.

"Well the left hand is the hand of destiny, nngh," the blonde said quietly before spasming. "You control my destiny," he added. Dr. Murphy seemed surprised by the answer and took a moment to make a note of it.

"Your father called today," the older man stated without lifting his eyes from his note taking. Tweek emitted a noise of uneasiness. He hadn't seen his parents since the day he was rushed to the emergency room when he was eighteen. Only his father would call the institution once a month to ask the doctor about Tweek's progress, too afraid to actually speak with his son, afraid to know what he had become from living in an asylum with other mental patients, some of which were criminally insane. Tweek's mother never learned how to cope with her son's mental state and refused to speak of anything having to do with him beyond the day before the cutting incident.

"He and your mother are doing well and the coffee shop is successful," Dr. Murphy said while observing Tweek's reactions. The skinny patient only twitched slightly.

"What did you tell him about me?" the blonde asked hesitantly.

"Well, you've been taking your anti-psychotic medication regularly. Your weight is slowly getting to a healthy number now that you are willing to eat soup and you haven't had any violent outbursts in quite some time," the doctor explained.

"So did you tell him when I could go home?" the young man squeaked. Dr. Murphy gave him a look.

"Tweek," the middle aged man sighed. His patient asked him this question every time he had an appointment. "Do you understand why you are here?" The blonde appeared to be staring off to the side of the desk watching something very intently before returning his attention to the man in front of him.

"No," he answered honestly. "I'm not crazy so I don't understand why I've been put in a mental hospital. Jesus, man!" Tweek said. Dr. Murphy had noticed his patient's momentary diversion of attention and made another note on his legal pad.

"What were you looking at just then, Tweek?" he asked softly.

"Gah!" Tweek shouted in alarm.

"Is it the gnomes? Are they here right now?" the doctor probed.

"Jesus! Yes! I don't know why you don't see them!" Tweek pointed at the empty space on the floor by his doctor's desk. Dr. Murphy spared a glance at the place on the floor next to him but then redirected back to the nervous patient in front of him.

"Are they telling you to do anything right now, Tweek?" the doctor asked. Tweek nodded his head slowly. "What do they want you to do?"

"Th-they want me to leave lewd notes on your desk," the blonde whispered fearfully.

"And are you going to?" Dr. Murphy pressed, relieved his patient wasn't being instructed to stab him with the pair of scissors that sat on his desk as he had been told to do so a few years ago. Tweek shook his head in answer to the question. "Did you take your medicine?" he inquired. The anti-psychotic usually repressed most of Tweek's more violent compulsive thoughts and behaviors.

"Yeah," Tweek told him. "It's just- Ah!- talking about my parents stresses me out and the gnomes like to- nngh- mess with me when I'm stressed," he explained. Dr. Murphy gave him a sympathetic look and pulled an envelope out of one of his desk drawers.

"Tweek, you received a letter the other day," the doctor informed him as he held up the plain white piece of mail. "Would you like to read it or do you want me to open it for you?" The blonde became frightened.

"Jesus Christ! You open it! It might have anthrax in it!" he shouted while clutching his wild hair. The older man cut open the envelope and extracted the single piece of paper from inside. He took a moment to read the letter's contents then carefully placed it down on his desk.

"You're being invited to your high school reunion. It looks like it's going to be in two weeks," the doctor announced. Tweek relaxed a bit more and leaned forward slightly with interest.

"A- a reunion?" he asked quietly. The doctor nodded. "Like, where the people I went to school with will be there? Clyde, Token, and Craig could be there?" he inquired, attempting to play down his excitement. He had been hidden away from the world for so long that the thought of seeing his old best friends excited him beyond belief.

"Is this something you think you could handle doing?" Dr. Murphy asked carefully. Tweek's right eye twitched a few times and he let out a series of whines.

"Of course I can handle it, man! Gah! You act like there's something seriously wrong with me and I don't know how to be around people or something," the blonde shouted almost hysterically. Dr. Murphy felt a pang of sympathy for his patient. The older man had been meeting with Tweek for therapy sessions and prescribing medications to him for the past seven years and had really become attached to the young man. Compared to how he used to be when he was eighteen, the now twenty five year old has made impressive progress. Dr. Murphy has gotten to know Tweek as a person instead of just a patient and he knows that once you get past the mental illnesses the blonde is truly a decent kid.

"You can go to the reunion if you would really like," the doctor says. Tweek's eyes light up immediately.

"R-really? I'm going to get to go out?" he asks in disbelief. His doctor nods.

"I'm going to have a nurse escort you just in case and if anything happens you will be brought back. I feel like you deserve to have a night out. Maybe if everything goes well we can arrange for you to go on field trips sometimes so you can see things," he suggests.

"Augh, Jesus! That would be awesome!" Tweek exclaims. Dr. Murphy smiled, glad that he could make his patient happy.

"Alright, well it's about time for your next scheduled activity," the doctor announces and closes Tweek's file. "What's on the agenda for today?" he asks.

"Nngh! Music," the young man answers.

"Oh good! You'll get to play your drums," Dr. Murphy says. Tweek nods.

"Yeah, it'll be fun because now I'm excited," the patient smiles.

"Good!" the doctor says as he goes to open the door for Tweek. He gives the nurse that is waiting at the door his patient's file. "Have fun," he tells Tweek and watches the nurse walk with him to the music room. Hopefully, seeing his old friends from high school will do some good for the paranoid blonde. Surely he will be glad to be around other people who don't see him as patient number 10400459, but rather as just Tweek Tweak. Hopefully his friends are actually planning on attending the reunion. They will just have to find out in two weeks.

* * *

**A/N: In case you are curious, the song that Tweek was practicing on his drums the night of the cutting incident was "Crush the Industry" by Dethklok. Well I've started writing the final chapter and hopefully I'll be able to get it completed and posted soon. I have lots of more story ideas so once this project is done I will have plenty to do. Apparently I'm turning into the unofficial queen of Staig. Lol!**


	4. Chapter 4: The Main Event

**A/N: Holy poo I'm finally done with the final chapter! Super sorry this took so long! I really hope everyone likes the way it turns out. I don't really know what an actual high school reunion is like cuz I've only been out of high school for three years so I haven't had a reunion yet but based on movies and TV shows this is how I would picture one to be like. To make it easier, I just decided that our South Park gang graduated seven years ago from present year so that would mean they graduated in 2005. I've been working on this story for so long it's going to feel weird to not have to add to it anymore! Thank you so much to everyone that has reviewed! It's awesome to know that people enjoy the story that has been floating in my head for months. Super special thanks to Marriot-chan and everlasting-luv for being steady reviewers :) Enjoy the last chapter and let me know what you think!**

* * *

Chapter Song: "A Nice Place to Visit" Aesthetic Perfection

Stan entered his bedroom while straightening his tie to search for his pair of dress shoes. He and Craig had been getting ready all afternoon to attend their reunion. Stan had just gotten finished styling his hair smartly and shaving in the bathroom mirror while Craig remained in the bedroom getting dressed after having taken his shower. Once his shoes were on his feet, Stan glanced up at Craig to check on his progress.

"Well damn," Stan said surprised. "This is going to be interesting," he stated.

"What?" Craig asked curiously. Stan gave him a goofy grin.

"Peoples' reactions when they see how hot my husband is," Stan laughed. Craig rolled his eyes at Stan's cheesiness. "You clean up real nice, dude. I don't get to see you dressed up very often," he explained. "I have to wear a tie every day for work," the noirette complained while motioning to his clothing. Craig hummed in response before walking over to Stan and placing a kiss on his forehead.

"You look cute though," Craig admitted. Stan blushed lightly. Craig was dressed up in a grey dress shirt with a black suit vest over it and a black tie. His slacks and dress shoes were also a stark black color and his hair had a controlled bed head look to it. Stan had chosen to wear a dark blue dress shirt with a red tie and his slacks and shoes were black.

"Are you ready?" Craig asked. His voice would appear calm to most people but Stan knew him better than that and could pick up on the hidden layer of excitement in Craig's tone.

"Mmhmm," Stan answered and rose from the bed he was sitting on. "Guess we'd better get going," he told the other man. The two headed downstairs and found Sharon sitting on the couch with a cup of tea and a book.

"Are you guys headed out?" she asked when she heard them come downstairs.

"Yeah Mom," Stan responded.

"Oh don't you two look handsome! Let me take a picture of you guys before you go!" she exclaimed and hastily left the couch to search for her camera.

"Mom!" Stan groaned. Craig smirked. "This isn't senior prom you know!" he shouted after her.

"I know, I know!" she dismissed as she trotted back into the room with her slightly dated camera. "I haven't seen you in years though and now here you are all dressed up. I could use an updated picture of you. Besides, now I can have one of my Stanley all dressed up with his husband to put on the mantle!" she said excitedly. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose but submitted, moving to stand closer to Craig for the photo. He was pleasantly surprised when, at the last minute, Craig turned and planted a kiss on his cheek for the picture.

"Aw you two are just so cute together," Sharon gushed. Craig and Stan both blushed slightly at the compliment. Several camera flashes later, Sharon finally put the camera down to allow the two young men to be on their way.

"Have fun, boys!" she shouted after them as they situated themselves in her Jeep Liberty. Stan waved to his mother and Craig gave a head nod before Stan backed out of the driveway.

"God, I'm so nervous right now!" Stan exclaimed while letting out a deep breath and tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Craig turned his consistently stoic gaze toward the jittery male and studied him for a moment. Stan was attempting some deep breathing exercises and white knuckle gripping the steering wheel.

"Should I be driving right now? I'd rather not die while we're out here in this God forsaken town," Craig stated bluntly. Stan gave a nervous smile.

"Nah, I'm fine. Sorry, don't mean to scare you," the nervous man explained. Craig accepted that answer and resumed staring out the window at the passing scenery.

"God, it's like nothing has changed," the dark haired man pointed out.

"Yeah it's a little eerie, ya know?" Stan agreed. Craig hummed.

"I guess most of our generation left town because there don't seem to be very many children here. That's what people our age would be doing right? Having kids by now?" Craig asked casually. Stan thought for a moment.

"Yeah I guess that sounds about right," Stan agreed. Craig gave a look of disgust.

"Damn breeders," Craig spat.

"Well aren't you mister gay pride," Stan snorted in laughter. Craig gave his husband an amused look. He was glad his joke was able to take Stan's mind off of being nervous. He noticed they were approaching the school parking lot and felt a jolt of butterflies go off in his own stomach. "Looks like we're here," Stan said quietly. Several cars were already in the parking lot and it took a few minutes for Stan to find an empty space.

Once the car was parked and turned off Stan took a deep shaky breath. "Are you ready?" he asked Craig, looking directly into his grey eyes for comfort. Craig took Stan's hand into his own and stroked his fingers over it.

"Why are you so nervous? You grew up in this town with these people. You spent four years of your life in this building, so why are you so worked up?" Craig asked his husband calmly. Stan sighed.

"I don't know it's stupid really. I guess it's just because I don't know what to expect and it's just been so long since I've seen my friends. I mean, Jesus Christ, when we went here I hated you! I thought you were an obnoxious asshole! If we've changed this much just think of what's happened with everyone else!" Stan had a worried look on his face. Craig remained expressionless for the most part.

"Don't worry," Craig told him in an overly dramatic soothing way. "When we went here I thought you were a whiny attention whore, but look where we are now," Craig said then gave a look that read 'you know I'm being an ass on purpose'. Stan smiled and playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Really though," Craig continued, "we changed for the better. People changing isn't always a bad thing. And if you are worried about telling them that you are gay and married to Craig mother fucking Tucker," he flashed a wicked grin, "then who gives a shit what they think? In another day we will be back in Vermont living the awesome life that we have built together," he concluded. He reached up and brushed his fingers across Stan's cheek for reassurance. The blued eyed man smiled.

"What would I do without you?" Stan asked lovingly.

"You'd probably be having a panic attack in a ditch somewhere," Craig shrugged.

"Shut up!" Stan laughed and pecked the other dark haired man on the lips. "Alright let's go do this!" he exclaimed enthusiastically as he let himself out of the car with Craig following. He grabbed Craig's hand and began leading him towards the doors that led to the school's gym.

* * *

The South Park High school gymnasium had been festooned with streamers and balloons of green and white to display the school's colors. The building was dimly lit much like a school dance and several round tables were set up to allow social seating arrangements. The center of the floor was left open to allow space for wandering around and a buffet table was situated alongside one of the walls. At the head of the room a projection screen was pulled down and the words "Welcome Alumni" were displayed colorfully upon it. The room was already full of people chatting and catching up. Stan had wanted to arrive at least thirty minutes after the start time to avoid being one of those awkward first few people there.

The dark haired couple stood still at the entrance for a moment to assess their surroundings while their fingers remained laced together for comfort.

"Welcome! Are you two former students?" as smiling woman asked from a small table set up near where they were standing. Stan jumped at the surprising sound of the woman's voice while Craig turned his unaffected gaze towards her. She must have been one of the current PTA members that was volunteering to help out because she looked like someone's mom but was too young to be the parent of anyone that graduated with them. Craig squeezed Stan's hand before leading him closer to the woman.

"Yes, we are attending the reunion," Craig informed her.

"Super! What are your names please?" the woman asked happily. Craig had to resist the urge to flip her off.

"Craig Tucker," he stated and the woman uncapped a highlighter as she began running her finger down a list.

"Aha! There you are!" she chirped and highlighted his name on the list before using a black sharpie to write the name on a "Hello My Name Is" sticker. "There you go!" she said as she handed him the sticker. Craig grimaced. Why was this woman so happy? "And you are?" she asked Stan. The noirette became nervous again now that it was his turn to speak.

"Erm… Stan Marsh-Tucker," he told her uneasily. She began running her finger down the list of names again and pouted when she reached the end.

"I'm sorry, there's a Stanley Marsh?" she offered. Stan sighed.

"That's it," he said. "That was my name in high school. I changed my last name when I got married," he explained.

"Oh," she blushed once she caught on. "Well tonight your nametag will say Stan Marsh since that's what you went by in high school. It's just so that people will recognize you," she defended. "We've had to give a lot of people nametags like that so you won't be the only one, Mr. Marsh-Tucker," she attempted to make him feel better.

"I understand," he accepted and took his new nametag sticker from her.

"You guys have fun," she waved once they had finished checking in.

"Thanks," Stan replied as he stuck his name sticker on the front of his shirt. Craig groaned.

"That woman makes me want to puke," he told Stan while adhering his own nametag to his suit vest.

"I know," Stan soothed while patting Craig's arm. "So how do you want to do this?" Stan asked, looking up into his husband's grey eyes. Craig considered this for a moment as he glanced around the dim building.

"I guess we could split up for a bit; you find your friends and catch up with them while I find mine. No offense, but I don't particularly care for your friends so you can have some alone time with them," Craig stated bluntly. Stan nodded in agreement. He already knew the other dark-haired man disliked Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman. He used to be included on that list until they really got to know each other in Vermont.

"If I can't find my friends then I'll just come back to you," Stan added. He really hoped his friends were present tonight though.

"Sounds good," Craig confirmed. "We'll meet back up anyways after we've had a chance to catch up with our main friends though," he said.

"Mmhmm," Stan hummed. "Alright then, see you in a bit," he exhaled a nervous breath.

"Love you," Craig told him and placed a kiss on his cheek. Stan smiled.

"Love you too," the blued eyed man replied and began walking away. As an afterthought, Craig caught Stan by the back of his arm and spun him around to face him. Stan had a look of surprise on his face.

"Don't do any drinking while we're here," Craig warned. Stan rolled his eyes.

"Okay, Mom," he said sarcastically. Craig only gave him a stern glare back.

"I'm serious, Stan. We're here to have a good time, not ruin peoples' lives," he stated stoically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stan looked offended.

"This is a social setting where you may be tempted to have a few too many of whatever they are serving. You become unpredictable when you are drunk. By eliminating the factor of you drinking in the first place we can avoid any potential disasters," Craig stated flatly.

"Well, gee, thanks," Stan said with more sarcasm. Craig continued to stare at him with such intensity it felt as if he was attempting to bore into his soul. "Fine, no drinking," Stan finally relented.

"Good," Craig smirked and let go of Stan's arm. "Hold true to that and someone might be getting a reward later when we get back to your parents' house," he teased.

"Oh really?" Stan asked intrigued. Craig let out a short laugh and smirked once again.

"See you in a bit, hun," the grey eyed man stated and patted Stan's shoulder before wandering off towards the tables to try to find his friends.

"That sexy bastard," Stan muttered and decided to head towards the refreshment table to begin his search. The multi-colored party lights which were set up throughout the gym made the large punch bowl look very attractive and Stan ladled some into a plastic cup and took small sips off of it as he began taking in the people around him. It immediately became clear how useful the nametag stickers were. A woman with dark auburn hair and an eyebrow piercing was standing near him chatting with a pretty black woman in an orange dress. He attempted to peer at their nametags inconspicuously and discovered that the two women were Red and Nichole.

Suddenly, Stan picked out the sound of a somewhat familiar voice speaking loudly in the center of the room. He began moving towards the source to find out who the voice belonged to. There was just something about the way the person was talking that seemed to remind him of someone.

"Yeah, it's a pretty sweet set up," the voice said arrogantly as Stan made his way through a small group of people standing near the man he was trying to find. The noirette gasped softly once he had discovered the owner of the voice he had been hearing.

"It's cushy and I can pretty much do whatever I want. I'm the number one guy in charge so what I say goes," a stocky brunette man was boasting to two women next to him. He wore his hair in a slicked back businessman manner and was dressed to the nines in a pinstripe suit. The man was chubby, radiated arrogance, and his nametag read "Hello, My Name Is Eric Cartman". Stan took a few cautious steps forward to be at a more appropriate conversation distance.

"Cartman?" Stan asked in disbelief. The pudgy man cut his sentence short and turned toward where his name had been called. The brunette squinted at Stan's nametag for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin.

"Holy shit! Stan Marsh," Cartman commented in disbelief. Stan chuckled and the two men bro hugged.

"Stan?" one of the nearby women asked softly. The man in question looked over at her and saw that her nametag had Wendy Testaburger scrawled across it. Her long black hair had been tied back in a ponytail and she wore a professional pants suit. This was the only girl Stan had ever dated.

"Wow," Stan said surprised. "You look great Wendy." The raven haired woman blushed lightly.

"Thanks, you aren't too shabby yourself," she replied. Stan read the nametag of the stylish looking blonde that stood next to Wendy and discovered that it was Bebe Stevens.

"Hey Bebe," Stan waved to her. She flashed a dazzling smile which showed off her perfectly straight white teeth.

"Hi Stan," she greeted in return.

"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise that the two former love birds would meet up this early into the reunion!" Cartman jeered. Stan rolled his eyes playfully and Wendy blushed again. "Well anyways," Cartman pressed, "I was just telling these two lovely ladies about how amazingly successful I have become since high school," he bragged.

"Oh?" Stan quirked an eyebrow at him and asked only slightly intrigued. Cartman always was one to gloat and be the center of attention.

"Yeah, it took a lot of ambition, some cut-throat strategizing, and just a small amount of blackmail," he smirked and got a malicious glint in his eye, "but I have managed to become the youngest ever CEO of KFC."

"You've got to be kidding me," Stan responded.

"I kid you not, Marsh," Cartman assured. Stan exchanged exasperated glances with Wendy and Bebe before returning his attention back to the egotistical man in front of him.

"Well that's…," the noirette searched for the correct term to use, "that's just great, Cartman. I'm sure that's your dream job," he settled on.

"Of course it is!" Cartman exclaimed. "I can finally have a hot tub full of KFC gravy in my office just like I used to have." Stan didn't miss the disgusted look Bebe got on her face at the thought of such a thing.

"Well, how do you like that?" Wendy said with insincere praise.

"So what are you two doing nowadays?" Stan asked the two women.

"Ay!" Cartman shrieked. "That's all you have to say about my amazing job as a CEO?" he demanded.

"We'll get back to you, sweetie," Bebe placated. The chubby man harrumphed but simmered down nonetheless. Wendy decided to speak first.

"I moved to Denver and went to college there. I got my degree in journalism and now I'm the editor in chief of one of the largest newspapers in the city," she informed her former classmates.

"That seems like something you would do," Stan commented. Wendy smiled.

"It's something I really love," she confessed.

"I moved to New York and became a professional model," Bebe spoke up.

"Wow! Really?" Stan asked. He found Bebe's profession to be more impressive than Cartman's. The blonde nodded.

"I've been in tons of fashion shows in New York and Paris and I've done photo shoots for anything from diamonds to shoes. It's really incredible! I've traveled all over the world for various shoots," she explained excitedly.

"I still can't get over how awesome that is, Bebe!" Wendy giggled.

"Yeah it's pretty amazing," Stan agreed. Cartman let out a frustrated sigh because the attention wasn't on him.

"What about you, Stan?" Bebe inquired curiously.

"Oh, well it's nothing special," Stan admitted.

"As long as you like doing what you do then it doesn't matter what other people think," Wendy told him encouragingly. Stan let out a nervous laugh.

"Yeah I suppose," he agreed. "I moved to Vermont and went to college there. Now I'm an accountant for a corporation."

"God that sounds so boring," Cartman remarked rudely. Stan gave him a puzzled look.

"Why does everyone always say that?" he wondered to himself out loud.

"Don't pay any attention to him, Stan," Wendy advised.

"Yeah," Bebe chimed in, "sounds like a pretty important job. I bet you're making the big bucks," she lightly teased. Stan chuckled.

"Well, I'm not struggling," he admitted.

"I would've expected that ginger Jew to have a job like that," Cartman retorted. "I didn't expect you doing something like that." Stan shrugged.

"I just like numbers I guess. I like organizing things too. This way I get to organize numbers," he reasoned.

"Sounds like you really enjoy what you do," Wendy smiled. Stan smiled back.

"Yeah I really do," the raven haired man acknowledged. Bebe suddenly clapped her hands together in excitement.

"Alright!" she piped. "Enough beating around the bush! I wanna know the scandals! Who's been arrested? Who has tattoos? Who slept with who?" the flawless blonde interrogated.

"Oh jeez," Wendy groaned which earned a bubbly giggle from the straight-forward woman next to her. Cartman cleared his throat.

"Well as I mentioned before, my rise to the top of the corporate ladder wasn't exactly squeaky clean," the chubby brunette boasted.

"You ever get arrested?" Bebe challenged.

"Of course not! I have my ways," the portly man declared.

"Uh huh," Bebe responded in a bored manner. "Ever get married?" she questioned.

"Seriously you guys?" Cartman scoffed. "I am the youngest CEO of KFC! I don't need some gold digging whiny bitch that's just going to spend my money on stupid shit!" he exclaimed.

"Like a hot tub full of gravy?" Stan muttered and Wendy and Bebe had to stifle their giggles.

"What was that?" Cartman demanded.

"Nothing dude," Stan coughed. "I totally agree, damn women just buy a bunch of useless shit," he lied sarcastically. The two ladies had to contain their giggle fits once again. As soon as Wendy felt that she could control herself she spoke up.

"I've been arrested before," she confessed.

"What?" all three of her former classmates asked at the same time. The dark haired woman laughed.

"At protests and demonstrations," she clarified.

"Jesus Wendy," Stan stated.

"So have you found a man?" Bebe probed. Wendy blushed lightly.

"No," she confessed. "I haven't found a man that can handle me yet," she stated. Bebe whooped at that.

"Oh girl!" she called out. Stan laughed nervously, feeling a bit awkward being an ex of Wendy himself. "Well I still haven't settled down either," Bebe told them. She gave a devious smile as she added, "But I have had many exotic lovers." She erupted into bubbly laughter as Stan and Wendy blushed at her revelation and Cartman appeared intrigued.

"Stan, what sorts of debauchery have you been up to?" Bebe asked as she wiped a few tears from the corners of her eyes from laughing so much.

"Uh," Stan apprehensively began twisting his wedding ring around his finger. "When I left South Park I just went to college in Vermont. Right after I graduated I got married and now I pretty much just work, go to the gym sometimes, and I like to watch football whenever I can. I don't really have a super exciting life like you guys, I guess," he shrugged.

"Aw! You got married?" Bebe asked excitedly.

"Yeah I did," Stan smiled warmly holding his hand up to display the silver wedding band on his left ring finger.

"You don't have any kids yet? How long have you been married?" the blonde interrogated. Stan shifted where he was standing.

"We don't want any kids. We've been married for almost three years but we've been together for about six years," the noirette revealed.

"Aw! That's so cute!" the model gushed.

"That's really great Stan," Wendy praised with a tight smile. Cartman scoffed.

"What happened to 'women buy a bunch of useless shit'?" the arrogant man sneered. Stan smirked; time for his first outing of the night.

"Who said I married a woman?" he challenged.

"Are you shitting me right now, Marsh?" Cartman snapped. The blue eyed man shook his head.

"I'm serious. My husband is actually here right now," Stan asserted.

"So you're gay?" Wendy asked quietly.

"Yeah I am," the former football player told her. The dark haired woman remained silent in shock.

"Jesus Christ, I knew you were a hippie faggot!" Cartman laughed.

"So where is your husband?" Bebe asked curiously. "I wanna meet this guy!" she exclaimed excitedly. Stan actually giggled a bit.

"He's looking for his friends right now to catch up with them," he told her.

The blonde's eyes widened in surprise, "I thought you met him in Vermont! You mean he actually went to school here too! Holy shit who is it?" she shouted with her enthusiasm. Stan laughed in amusement.

"He did go to this school. We both coincidentally ended up in the same town in Vermont and we eventually started dating," he informed her.

"Oh my God! You're killing me with anticipation!" Bebe exclaimed. Stan extracted his wallet from one of his back pockets and opened it up to remove his driver's license.

"Here," he said handing her his license. "Take a look at my name. I took his last name when we got married," he explained. The blonde grabbed the small laminated card and began scouring it for his name. Wendy peeked over at it in curiosity as well. After a few moments Bebe gasped loudly.

"So what's his last name?" Cartman drawled. "Is it Broflovski?" Bebe lifted her eyes from the license and grinned widely.

"Stanley Randall Marsh-Tucker," she recited.

"What the fuck?" Cartman blanched. Wendy's eyes widened.

"There were only two people at our school with the last name Tucker," the dark haired woman pointed out. "Ruby and…," she couldn't say it so Bebe cut in.

"Craig," she stated in an amused way. "Craig Tucker," she repeated.

"Stan," Wendy said quietly. "I would have never thought that you were actually gay all along," she admitted. "Out of all the people in the world I definitely would have never thought that you would end up with Craig."

"Craig is like the biggest asshole ever," Cartman added. Stan rolled his eyes.

"Come on you guys," Bebe urged, "he can't be that bad if Stan's been with him for six years," she concluded.

"Yeah, he's really amazing," Stan agreed.

"So where is this man of yours, Stan?" Bebe asked casually. Stan began scanning the crowd for the familiar figure of his husband. He finally spotted him on the other side of the gym sitting at one of the tables chatting with someone.

"There he is at that table," the noirette pointed out to the model. She looked in the direction Stan was pointing and noticed the handsome dark haired man seated there. Although he was older now he still had that 'I don't give a fuck' bored look on his face and she could immediately tell she was looking at the one and only Craig Tucker.

"Damn he got sexy," she admitted. Stan laughed.

"Yeah I know," he sighed. "He always looks so sexy when he dresses up," he told her. Craig turned his gaze in Stan's direction and noticed he was being watched. He gave a small wave to his husband and Stan waved back which made Bebe go into another giggle fit about how cute they were.

Craig turned his attention back to his conversation at the table after receiving a wave back from Stan.

"Did Stan Marsh just wave to you?" Clyde Donovan asked skeptically. "Don't you guys hate each other or something?"

Craig gave a bored look before glancing at his wedding ring then back to Clyde. "We did in high school, but now I'm actually married to him," Craig stated. Clyde's mouth dropped open.

"Wha- are you serious right now?" the brunette stammered. Clyde had lost all of his baby fat finally and was about average build and height for his age. His face remained boyish but his skin was now tanned light brown which complimented his honey brown eyes and light brown hair.

"Yes I'm serious," Craig assured him. "I'm wearing a wedding ring so obviously I'm married and I just told you who I'm married to," the grey eyed man explained impatiently.

"Well that's cool," Clyde commented. "I didn't know you were gay," he added.

"Yep," Craig confirmed. "Always have been. So anyways, I told you about my extremely exciting life in Vermont, now tell me what you've been up to," the dark haired man instructed. Clyde flashed a triumphant smile.

"I moved to Miami," the brunette stated in an accomplished tone. Craig raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Wow, you really got the hell away from here," the grey eyed man stated. Clyde nodded his head.

"Yeah I was thinking, 'You know what? Fuck this cold weather!', and I went to the hottest, sunniest place I could think of!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Well that explains why you got tan," Craig pointed out. "You like it down there?" he asked.

"Hell yeah, man!" Clyde confirmed. He had a dopey excited grin on his face. "Dude, you should see all the hot chicks on the beach," he laughed and nudged Craig's arm. The dark haired man gave his friend a disgruntled look. "Oh sorry!" Clyde apologized. "There are some dudes out there too. I don't know if they are hot but some of them have a lot of muscles. I don't know if that's what dudes look for in guys but, you know," the former football player rambled. Craig rubbed his temples.

"Thank you for that, Clyde," Craig said exasperatedly. Clyde laughed at his friend's anxiety.

"No problem, dude!" he patted his grey eyed friend on the shoulder. "Well any who, I moved down there and went to college and stuff. I've graduated now but I'm going to take a year or two to just dick around before I go into a career. Well, that's what I'd like to do anyway," he added forlornly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Craig asked curiously. Clyde sighed.

"There's just so much I want to see and do in my life. Miami's great! I love the beaches and I can learn how to surf and there are all these hot chicks everywhere. Dude, you should see it during Spring Break! I'm finally away from all this fucking snow and I'm on my own; I can do whatever the hell I want," he stopped and looked conflicted for a moment before continuing. "My old man wants me to move back to South Park to take over the family business," he said sadly.

"The shoe store?" Craig asked.

"Yeah," Clyde said bitterly. "Who the hell would want to give up such an awesome life to sell shoes?" he complained.

"Then don't do it?" Craig said questioningly. "Just tell him you aren't qualified to run a business," the dark haired man suggested. Clyde groaned and ran his hands through his hair.

"I went to college for business management, dude," the brunette whined while giving his friend a pleading look.

"The fuck did you do that for?" Craig blanched. "You should have seen this coming if that's what you majored in and you know your father owns a business. Should've studied fashion or some shit," the grey eyed man scolded. Clyde put his forehead to the table and groaned.

"I just don't know what to do. That store has become my dad's life since I've been gone and my mom isn't here anymore. I don't have any siblings so it automatically gets landed on me. He wants to keep the business in the family. If I don't accept, he will just keep working there until the day he dies. No one will be there to keep the business running and it will be lost," Clyde explained. The two men remained silent for a few moments.

"Clyde," Craig said after a bit. "No disrespect man, but I just imagined your dad standing in the middle of the shoe store with a broom looking totally skeletal and ancient just sweeping up. Then he keels over and is just dead in the store and it's left all dusty and abandoned and after years all that's left is a skeleton buried under shoe boxes," Craig stated calmly. Clyde gave him a horrified look.

"What the hell, dude?" the brunette shouted. "God, you're so creepy!" Craig just shrugged. "I wonder how the Tweaks dealt with this issue," the tanned man questioned. "Do you think Tweek will take over the coffee shop when his parents want to retire?" he asked.

"I don't know. I don't know if Tweek could handle the pressure of running a business," Craig admitted.

"Yeah he did have OCD pretty bad in high school. I guess he probably wouldn't be running the coffee shop, then," Clyde agreed. "Have you seen him yet tonight?" he inquired.

"No, you're the first person I ran into since arriving actually," Craig told him. "I wonder if Token is here," he pondered. Clyde shrugged. The more childish man scanned the gymnasium for any signs of the black man or wild haired blonde.

"I don't think I see them," Clyde announced. He suddenly caught sight of another familiar figure. "There's Kyle Broflovski," he pointed. Craig made a face.

"Why would I care about that asshole?" the noirette asked irritably.

"I dunno. He's Stan's best friend," Clyde reasoned. Craig rolled his eyes.

"Stan hasn't talked to that guy in years," Craig corrected. "Besides, just because I married Stan doesn't mean those dick holes he hung out with in high school are suddenly okay in my book. As far as I'm concerned they still owe me a hundred dollars," he sneered.

"Stan was involved in that incident too wasn't he?" Clyde asked.

"Yeah but I forgave him for that," Craig relented.

"Don't you live off of Stan's income?" Clyde questioned.

"Well I work too, but yeah, he makes more than I do," the grey eyed man admitted.

"So then, wouldn't that sorta count as repayment for the hundred dollars?" the brunette wondered quizzically.

"No it doesn't count!" Craig denied. "I want one hundred dollars either from the fat ass or the fire crotch. I don't expect Kenny to have the money; or hell, maybe I do. Maybe he's not poor anymore," Craig ranted. Clyde just sighed.

* * *

Kyle Broflovski was standing by the punch bowl when Stan returned to it for a refill. Once his cup was full he turned away from it and suddenly caught sight of someone with fiery red hair to his left gathering some finger foods onto a paper plate. Stan stared in shock for a moment before finally finding his voice.

"Kyle?" the dark haired man asked. The red head turned around to see who had called him and his face instantly lit up.

"Stan!" Kyle exclaimed. The two hugged briefly. "Wow! It's been so long," Kyle said in amusement.

"Yeah," Stan agreed. "I think it's been about six years." Stan had attempted to stay in contact with Kyle after graduation but that only lasted the first year. Eventually, Kyle had stopped responding to texts and phone calls and never signed onto their online messenger.

"I'm sorry about that," Kyle said with a hint of regret in his voice. "School just got so busy and I was involved in a lot of extra-curricular activities so I had virtually no free time," he rambled.

"Yeah," Stan agreed awkwardly.

"Can you believe these tacky decorations?" Kyle observed while glancing around the gym. "I can't believe the school was so broke it couldn't even book a conference room somewhere and it had to buy all these dollar store streamers," he snorted. Stan looked around at all the balloons and streamers that had been used to decorate.

"I think it looks okay," he shrugged. Kyle didn't respond to Stan's comment, instead he focused his gaze on the cup in the noirette's hand.

"You're drinking that punch?" Kyle asked critically.

"Yeah it's pretty good. Have you tried any yet?" Stan asked with a smile. Kyle made a gagging gesture.

"That stuff tastes like stale off brand popsicles," the red head stated. Stan quirked an eyebrow at his high school friend's description of the beverage as he drank from his cup anyway. He thought the punch was delicious.

"Well, now that you're out of school what have you been up to?" Stan asked to change the subject.

"Oh I'm still in school," Kyle corrected proudly. "I'm not settling for a meager bachelor's degree. I'm going for my master's in law right now. I go to Harvard, I'm sure you recall," he said.

"Wow, that's awesome, dude," Stan congratulated.

"Well if I'm going to own my own law firm one day I'm sure having a master's won't hurt," Kyle smirked. "I'm currently practicing, though. I am able to squeeze a few cases in around my class schedule," he added.

"Sounds like you've been pretty busy," Stan said. Inwardly he was thinking how much Kyle had changed. He seemed like a different person.

"Stan, there is a certain standard to which I aspire to live and I work my ass off to achieve it. In the end it all pays off. I mean, I drive a Mercedes for a reason," he responded.

"So I guess you haven't gotten married and had kids then, huh?" Stan laughed. "That's what I was thinking I was going to see here. All these people I graduated with that have kids or something," he admitted. Kyle had a sour expression on his face.

"Of course I'm not married," he laughed hollowly. "I don't have time to waste on marriage at this point in my life. I certainly wouldn't want to ruin my life with children at this point. Once I'm on top with my career then I will consider marriage. Don't get me wrong, I do have a girlfriend but she knows it would be stupid to get so serious when we are this young. She's going to be a doctor," Kyle said with pride. Stan was suddenly nervous. What would Kyle say when he found out that Stan actually did get married? "Enough about me," Kyle said with a wave of his hand. "What have you accomplished, Stan? Still in nowheresville Vermont?" he asked with a grin.

"Uh, yeah," Stan hesitated. He cleared his throat. "I finished college and I'm an accountant. I fell in love and got married. Now I just work and live the married life. No kids, we don't want any kids," he explained.

"Well that's nice," Kyle said with a nearly fake looking smile. "That's all you want to do in life, then?" he asked. Stan nodded.

"Yeah, I'm pretty happy. Sometimes Craig and I will go to a concert or go to a bar for a night out or something. As long as I have him, life's pretty good," Stan added.

"Craig?" Kyle asked in confusion. Stan blushed lightly.

"Craig is my husband," Stan answered softly. "Craig Tucker." Kyle's eyes widened and he actually took a step back in shock.

"Wha-? How?" the red head stammered. "You mean that emotionless asshole that hates us for the Peru incident that happened in fourth grade?" he demanded. "_That_ Craig Tucker?" Stan nodded a confirmation.

"Well, he's forgiven _me _for that," the blue eyed man muttered.

"Oh my God," Kyle started. He looked completely flustered and mind blown. "I don't know which part to process first: the part about you being married to a man or the man you are married to," he said still in shock with a hand on his forehead. "So he actually has emotions?" Kyle asked. Stan giggled.

"Yes he does," Stan assured him. "I mean, yeah, he's an asshole but that's just his personality. I'm not bad talking him either. Literally, if you were to call him that to his face he would agree with you," the raven haired man explained.

"Hmm," the red head responded thoughtfully. "Well that's interesting." Stan just smiled politely and took another sip of his drink. "Congratulations on getting married, then," Kyle offered after a few more moments of silence.

"Thanks," Stan grinned. "So you aren't weirded out about me being gay?" he asked nervously. Kyle frowned at the finger food he had been examining cautiously and put it back on his plate.

"Of course it doesn't bother me," he announced. "I didn't really expect it from you but I guess I should've known based on your lack of interest in the opposite sex back in high school," he stated. Stan sighed and rolled his eyes playfully. Apparently he wasn't as far in the closet as he thought he had been when he was younger. Kyle grimaced. "Why in the world do they have to play these horrible songs that were popular back when we were seniors? Do they think this is nostalgic? Its migraine inducing is what it is," the young lawyer complained.

* * *

As the top hits from seven years ago filled the crowded gymnasium, Marjorine stood alone in the center of the room. She was trying to calm her nerves as she constantly scanned over the faces of her former classmates hoping to spot Kenny among them. He was originally supposed to go with her but the past few days he hasn't been home nor has Mr. Garrison seen him around town. Marjorine went ahead and attended the event in hopes that Kenny would eventually show up and see how gorgeous she looked. She tried to look her absolute best for tonight so that when Kenny did see her he wouldn't be able to resist her. She stood alone in the middle of the room wearing a sexy black dress that had a corset top and flowing skirt that reached her knees. True to her signature color, the corset lace on the front of her bodice was a vibrant pink as were her strappy heels. The corset provided a nice push up effect to her cleavage and her eyes had been done in smoky black makeup. Her long blonde hair fell in ringlets down her back. She looked absolutely stunning.

Marjorine nervously ran her manicured fingers over her name sticker on the front of her dress that read 'Hello, My Name Is Butters Stotch'. "Oh hamburgers, I hope he shows up tonight," she muttered to herself. She began making her way towards one of the tables to just sit and wait for Kenny. The blonde woman wasn't sure she would be able to handle this on her own; Kenny was supposed to be her moral support and he knew how important this was to her.

"Hey, I love your dress!" a female voice called out near where Marjorine stood. She looked around to find out if the compliment was meant for her or someone else. She made eye contact with another blonde woman who smiled at her. The woman was standing next to a raven haired female that seemed to be staring off into space. Marjorine cautiously approached the two females, making sure her nametag remained hidden by her hair. She hadn't talked to anyone yet tonight and was terrified of just jumping right into the whole 'I'm not really Butters anymore' conversation. It would have really been great to have Kenny with her right about then to hide behind.

Upon closer inspection, the two ladies in front of her turned out to be Bebe Stevens and Wendy Testaburger.

"Um, hi," Marjorine began shyly. Bebe grinned.

"Hey! I was just saying I love your dress! So hot," she stated. Marjorine smiled happily.

"Thanks!" she blushed. "You look great. I thought you couldn't get any prettier when we were in high school, but I guess I was wrong," she rambled while rubbing her knuckles together and rolling her eyes to the floor. Bebe laughed and Wendy finally snapped out of her thoughts and noticed the blushing blonde standing in front of her.

"Why thank you," Bebe smiled. "I actually moved to New York and became a model," she informed the other blonde woman.

"Gee that sure is amazing," Marjorine said in awe.

"What do you do?" Bebe asked curiously. The model was still unsure of who she was talking to but figured she would try to gather clues based on information she was told to figure out the young woman's identity.

"I work at Tweek Bros.," Marjorine told her quietly. Bebe looked surprised.

"So you-," the model tried to ask but was cut short.

"I never left South Park," Marjorine clarified meekly.

"Oh, wow. I guess that means you've been able to see the town change over the years," Bebe attempted to sound positive. She couldn't imagine staying in South Park this whole time.

"Yeah I suppose so," Marjorine admitted. "I go to the community college for culinary arts. I'm going to be graduating soon but I'm not really sure where I'm going to go with it. There's just," she took a deep breath, "there's just something here I can't bear to leave," she added quietly. Bebe gave her a look of sympathy. Wendy had been observed the entire conversation and was just as confused as her blonde friend when it came to figuring out who they were speaking with. Being in journalism, Wendy always went for the more direct approach when it came to getting information.

"I'm sorry, I don't quite remember your name," Wendy told the blonde politely. Bebe gave her an apologetic look as Marjorine began blushing furiously. Why couldn't Kenny be here with her? She inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Um, my name is Marjorine, but in high school you knew me by-," she uncovered her nametag on the front of her dress. The two other women leaned forward slightly to read the sticker.

"Butters?" Wendy gasped. The dark haired woman studied Marjorine more closely for any sign of her being a man and came up with nothing.

"Oh this is fantastic!" Bebe cried clapping Marjorine on the shoulder. "Good for you! You are really beautiful," she congratulated.

"Th- thanks," Marjorine stammered in surprise. She noticed the two ladies in front of her divert their eyes to somewhere slightly behind her. Before she had time to turn around she felt someone's arm around her shoulders and suddenly Kenny was standing next to her.

"Hey Rini, sorry I'm late," the blonde man apologized with a nickname. Marjorine's eyes widened and she looked over at him.

"Kenny, your nose is bleeding," she hissed and grabbed a napkin off a nearby table to wipe away the blood that had streamed to his chin from his nose. Marjorine realized what his nosebleed probably meant and hoped Wendy and Bebe woudn't figure it out. She glanced at the other two women and saw the looks of concern on their faces. "Sorry, he gets these sometimes," she lied hoping they would believe it. They seemed to accept her excuse. Not knowing where else to put it, she stuffed the bloody napkin in her purse to hide the evidence. She looked at Kenny, who had that grin on his face that she loved, and finally noticed what he was wearing. He was told to dress nice for this occasion, however his ratty black zip up hoodie, ripped jeans, and dirty converse contradicted that. His hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days and his eyes were pink rimmed and blood shot.

"Damn baby, you look hot!" Kenny exclaimed while blatantly ogling her chest. Her eyes widened in horror.

"Kenny, you're embarrassing me," she mumbled. Bebe got a devious look on her face.

"Are you two together?" she asked curiously. Marjorine turned her wide aquamarine eyes to Bebe.

"Um, well, not-," she stammered.

"Fuck no we aren't together!" Kenny cut in loudly. "She just feeds me sometimes and lets me use her shower and does my laundry. You know, shit like that," he explained. Suddenly he looked as though he thought of something important. "Damn you're awesome!" he shouted and picked her up spinning her around once before putting her back down.

"Kenny!" she yelped. A few people had started to look in their direction to see what the commotion was. Bebe and Wendy gave the pair a curious look. "People are staring, Kenny," she whispered fearfully.

"Aw fuck! What do they want? I don't have anything on me!" he asked frantically. Marjorine rubbed his arms to calm him down.

"They don't want anything from you, you're just being really loud," she assured.

"Oh, I didn't know they could hear me," he mused. Marjorine sighed. She gave Bebe and Wendy apologetic looks.

"So have you told them you have a dick yet?" Kenny asked her. Marjorine's face instantly became impossibly red with embarrassment.

"Kenny!" she shouted.

"What?" he asked. Wendy looked uncomfortable and Bebe concealed a giggle. Marjorine gave him a mortified look.

"Please don't reference my-," she cringed, "body parts when talking to people," she demanded Kenny put his hands up in defeat.

"Alright, alright," he relented. "Ugh, Jesus! Can we dance or something?" the blonde man groaned. "Like can we do that here? Can we dance? This thing is just way to slow paced," he complained. The drug addict let his eyes wander through the crowd for a moment until he spotted someone that caught his interest. "Oh! Meet up with you later Rini," he said excitedly before rushing after whoever he had seen. Before Marjorine had to come up with an excuse for her wanna-be boyfriend the ladies were joined by another young man.

"Wendy! Bebe!" the well dressed dark skinned man greeted. "It's me, Token," he introduced. Bebe squealed in delight and went to hug him as Wendy gave him a warm smile.

"How have you been, Token?" Wendy asked pleasantly.

"Well you certainly never lost your fashion sense!" Bebe observed. Token chuckled.

"I try," he joked while motioning to his designer suit. "I went to Harvard with Kyle Broflovski," the man told them happily. "My goal is to become the next Cochran."

"Wow that's impressive," Wendy commented. Bebe nodded.

"Who is this lovely lady?" Token asked while looking in Marjorine's direction. Bebe put her hands on the shy woman's shoulders to display her.

"This is the beautiful woman formerly known as Butters," the model beamed. Token frowned and gave Marjorine a look of distaste.

"Hello," he said tightly before turning his attention to Wendy. "Have you seen Craig or Clyde yet? I still haven't found them," he asked. Bebe looked confused, but Marjorine could tell that Token was one of the kinds of people that did not accept her.

"Um, he was at that table over there last I knew," the raven haired female answered.

"Thanks. Nice to see you guys," he waved before heading in the direction of the table Wendy had pointed out. Marjorine noticed that Token's cuff links were gold crosses.

"So we finally meet again," a deep voice said from behind where Craig was sitting. The grey eyed man turned around and Clyde lifted his head off the table from where he had been sulking.

"Oh shit, dude!" Craig said excitedly when he saw that Token stood behind him. Clyde got his dopey grin back on his face when he noticed who it was too. Craig stood up from his seat to shake Token's hand enthusiastically before motioning for his friend to sit down at the table with himself and Clyde.

"The whole gang is almost assembled!" Clyde stated excitedly. "How've you been, bro?" he asked Token. The black man laughed.

"I've been pretty good. What about you guys? What did I miss at this table meeting?" he inquired. Clyde sighed.

"Nothing really," the brunette responded. "We were just discussing my misery and Craig's amazing happiness," he told his friend.

Token quirked an eyebrow, "Well, that sounds like… fun?" he wondered. Craig nodded his head.

"Clyde's misery is always fun," the noirette stated. "So did you make it out of South Park?" he asked.

"Oh definitely!" Token nodded. "I moved to Massachusetts and went to Harvard. I'm a lawyer now and I aspire to become the top lawyer in the country," he told them.

"Aren't you fancy," Craig commented.

"That's amazing!" Clyde said in awe.

"So, who have you guys run into so far?" Token asked curiously. Craig shrugged.

"You two; that's all I've talked to so far. I think I saw Kenny McCormick run through here a few minutes ago," he stated.

"I've talked to Red, Christophe, and Wendy so far," Clyde said as he played with a napkin on the table.

"So you guys haven't seen Butters yet?" Token asked curiously. His two friends shook their heads indicating no they hadn't. "Apparently Butters is a woman now," Token informed them. Clyde got a serious look on his face and Craig looked at him with mild interest. Back when he and Stan first started dating they attended a gay pride rally together and they had seen several transgendered people there. He wasn't bothered by Butters now being a woman, in fact he was inwardly pleased with himself for suspecting him to be somewhere on the rainbow spectrum.

"Does he look hot as a woman?" Clyde asked after a few beats of silence.

"Honestly I thought he was a real woman at first," Token responded distastefully. Craig felt that there were a few things off about his old high school friend's sentence. Some of the words he used didn't sit well with him. The glint of something shiny caught his eye and he noticed Token's cross cuff links. "Why in the world would he want to do something so perverse to his body?" Token continued. "I mean, he does realize what he's done is permanent and once he's grown out of this phase he can't take it back, right?"

"Phase?" Clyde asked confused. Craig braced himself.

"He was born a man. God intended for him to be a man, marry a woman, and live a normal life. Now he's gone and created an abomination out of himself. It's just gross, men weren't meant to have breasts," Token ranted. Clyde snuck a glance over at Craig who had his jaw clenched shut and a vacant look in his eyes.

"You, uh, got involved in the church, huh?" Clyde asked nervously.

"Yes I did. As I got older I realized that there is only one way to live and that's with conservative, Republican, Christian beliefs," he said proudly. Clyde swallowed and looked back over at Craig.

"Well that's cool," Clyde answered in order to conceal the tense atmosphere.

"So what is this misery of yours?" Token asked his brown eyed friend. Clyde was glad Token had asked him a question first so that Craig could have a moment to calm down.

"Um, I moved to Miami to get the hell away from all this snow and I went to college for business management. I freaking love it down there, dude! There are so many hot girls! Anyways, turns out my dad wants me to move back to this crap town to take over the family shoe store," Clyde explained.

"Ah, that does suck," Token agreed. "So what are you going to do?" he asked.

"I have no fucking clue, dude. My dad waited until I got into town to drop this on me," Clyde lamented.

"Good luck, man," Token told him sympathetically. "How about you Craig? What's the amazing happiness you were discussing?" he smiled. Craig gave him a bored look.

"I ran away to Vermont after high school graduation and found my soul mate and got married," Craig summarized. "That's my amazing happiness. I don't know how I could live without this person. The interesting part is that we already knew each other from South Park but it wasn't until we met again in Vermont that we really got to know our true selves," he said while giving Token a challenging look.

"You knew each other from here but you both somehow ended up finding each other in a completely different state?" Token asked incredulously. "Sounds like you two were meant to be together," he said. Craig smirked.

"That's what I think, but I don't think you will agree with that statement once I tell you who it is," Craig said harshly.

"What?" Token asked in shock. "Why not?"

"Because it's Stan Marsh," Craig told him. Token gave him a look of disbelief for a moment then grinned.

"You're just messing with me aren't you? Come on, who is it really?" he asked playfully.

"I am married to Stan Marsh," Craig reiterated calmly. Token looked horrified and looked to Clyde for some sign of it actually being a joke. When he received no such confirmation he gave Craig a grim look.

"So you're a homosexual?" he asked seriously. Craig nodded an affirmative. "I'm afraid I'll never be able to look at you in the same way. What you are doing is wrong and goes against nature," the lawyer responded coolly.

"Does it look like I care?" Craig asked icily before standing from the table. "I'll meet up with you later, Clyde, I'm going to go look for Tweek," he told his tanned friend.

"Roger that," Clyde replied as his dark haired friend walked away.

* * *

Stan was on his way back to the gymnasium after a trip to the bathroom when he nearly ran into Wendy. "Sorry about that," he apologized to the woman in front of him.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," she replied while playing with the end of her ponytail.

"Well, I was just getting back," Stan told her as he moved to walk around her.

"Stan," Wendy said grabbing onto his sleeve to stop him.

"Yeah, what's up?" he asked. The raven haired woman stared at the floor playing with her hair for another moment.

"I just- I wanted to tell you that I'm actually disappointed you didn't come here single," she admitted. Stan was shocked. "I can't help but feel that I still have feelings for you and I guess I was hoping that we would both show up here and give it another shot," she said quietly.

"Wendy, I-," Stan began sympathetically.

"Are you sure we can't try one more time?" she asked with tears brimming in her eyes. Stan was taken aback by her boldness.

"I'm married now Wendy," he told her calmly. "I can't just do that. Besides, I'm gay. I'm not attracted to women," he said. Wendy's tears had spilled down her cheeks.

"I'll change, she begged. "It'll be different than last time."

"You would have to get a dick and lose the boobs for me to be attracted to you," Stan argued. "Even if you were a man I still wouldn't accept because I love Craig so much," he said softly.

"We could be great together!" Wendy pleaded.

"I'm sorry Wendy but Craig has my heart and I don't ever want it back because his fits so perfectly where mine used to be. I'm going to get back to the reunion now," he told her and left her crying in the hallway as he re-entered the gym.

Craig was chatting with Bebe and Marjorine when Stan wandered up next to him. "Hey Stan what are you doing?" he asked. Stan stared at his face for a moment before pulling him in for a passionate kiss. The kiss lasted for a solid minute before Stan pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against Craig's.

"I love you so much. I'm so glad I have you. I never want to be without you," Stan told him softly. The two blonde women were still able to hear what the former football player had said and exchanged gooey looks. Craig smiled.

"I love you too, babe," he replied and gave his husband another brief kiss. "Everything okay?" he asked with mild concern.

"Mmhmm," Stan breathed taking in Craig's scent. "Everything's fine. I'll tell you later. I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me," he smiled. Craig pulled his head away from the other man.

"Is this a trick? Do you want something?" the grey eyed man questioned. Stan giggled and pecked Craig on the lips again.

"Maybe in the bedroom later," the shorter man whispered against his husband's lips. Craig's eyes widened slightly. "I just wanted to be loving toward you. Can't I do that?" he asked. Craig kissed his forehead.

"Yeah I guess you're allowed to do that," he replied with a sigh. "I just have to see if Tweek is here then I'll be ready to hang out with you the rest of the night," Craig told him.

"I still haven't seen Kenny," Stan responded. Marjorine felt a jolt of dread but figured Stan had a right to see his old best friend.

"Kenny's definitely here," she told Stan. "I'm just not sure where." The noirette gave her a smile.

"Thanks! I'll go look for him," he told her.

"Hey, babe?" Craig called to him. Stan turned towards him to see what he wanted. "Stay away from Token, okay?" the grey eyed man instructed. Stan gave him a curious look but accepted anyways.

The blue eyed former football player made his way throughout the gym occasionally stopping to chat with people here or there. Eventually he made his way to the back of the room which is where he found Kenny wildly dancing to "My Humps". Stan stood staring in amazement for a moment as he watched his old high school friend rotating his hips seductively swaying to the music with his eyes closed and his arms above his head. Clearly he had been dancing for awhile because a thin layer of sweat covered his face.

"Hey Kenny!" Stan finally said loudly to get the blonde man's attention. The dancing man's eyes snapped open and he immediately broke into a large grin when he spotted the dark haired man in front of him.

"Aw shit!" Kenny shouted excitedly while stumbling over in Stan's direction with his hand already raised for a bro hug. "Stan the man; how's it hangin'?" the blonde greeted. Stan noted Kenny's sloppy appearance and could feel how skinny he was during their brief hug. Something seemed a bit off about his old friend but he shrugged it off.

"Hey Kenny!" Stan repeated. "I'm doing pretty good, how about you?" he responded.

"I'm just livin' you know?" the druggie answered with a crooked smile. Kenny was radiating energy and there was an intensity about him that made Stan feel fatigued just thinking about trying to keep up with him. Out of the corner of his eye, the noirette noticed Marjorine lurking nearby as if she was keeping an eye on Kenny and monitoring his actions.

"So you've been over here dancing, huh?" Stan asked casually.

"Oh fuck yes!" Kenny answered loudly. "Like every song that comes on is my fucking jam!" he exclaimed. Stan laughed.

"Dude, I haven't even heard half of these songs since we were seniors," Stan told him. "So where are you living these days?" he asked as his conversation partner began swaying to the current song playing.

"Same place," Kenny answered. "I've got the house to myself now though so that's pretty sweet," he explained as he continued casually dancing.

"Oh your parents moved out or something?" Stan asked.

"Nah, they're in jail," Kenny said simply. "Kevin and Karen move out though," he added. Stan was only slightly surprised Kenny's parents had been arrested. "It's fucking hot in here, man," Kenny complained and began unzipping his black hoodie to remove it. Marjorine quickly made her way over towards where Kenny and Stan were talking. She could already tell the object of her affection was not wearing anything other than a wife beater under his hoodie and she knew that if he took it off it would reveal to everyone what Kenny had truly become. Right before Kenny disappeared in the days leading up to the reunion, he came to her house asking to use her shower again. When he emerged from her bathroom he was still shirtless and she was able to see all of his scars and track marks for the first time. The sight had terrified her but also made her frustrated that she couldn't keep him safe from himself.

By the time Marjorine finally reached the two men and grabbed the hoodie to begin putting it back on the skinny man Stan had already seen one of Kenny's exposed arms.

"What are you doing? Don't take your jacket off you'll end up accidentally leaving it here," Marjorine made up an excuse as she fretted over zipping the hoodie up. She turned to smile softly at Stan but could tell by the horrified look on his face that she had been too late. She gave the dark haired man a pleading look.

"He's such a sweet man, but he tends to have lapses in judgment sometimes. You know, like how he knows he's forgetful but is willing to risk taking his jacket off," she explained to Stan as she rested her hands on Kenny's chest. She hoped Stan understood the double meaning of what she had said. "He's my best friend," she added in a melancholy tone and Stan instantly pieced together the tragedy in front of him. Suddenly he felt that he should leave the two blondes alone so they could have a private conversation.

"It was nice seeing you Kenny. I think I'm going to go get some more punch," Stan said and excused himself.

"I'm not going to end up leaving my jacket here," Kenny complained to the woman in front of him. Marjorine could feel tears threatening to spill over with a sudden wave of emotion but she tried her best to blink them back in fear of ruining her makeup. She ran her hands up and down his chest before burying her face in the black fabric of his jacket.

"I know," she responded, muffled by the fabric.

"Why are you trying to make excuses for me, huh?" he asked irritably, taking a step back from her. Marjorine looked up at Kenny's face to see his angry scowl. "I can take care of myself you know," he said.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You just don't want people to know about me, huh? Is that it? You're trying to cover for me? You don't want to be embarrassed about associating with me?" he demanded. Marjorine was frightened by this point. Kenny had never spoken to her like this before.

"No that's not it at all," she defended quietly. She looked at him directly in his light blue eyes. "I love you Kenny," she admitted to him. "I love you more than anything else." She couldn't stop the tears from falling down her face now even if she wanted to. "I have loved you for so long and I've waited for you," she sobbed. The shaken blonde woman could no longer censor her thoughts as everything came pouring out. "Kenny, I will do anything for you. I stayed in South Park after I got back on my feet because I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you. Even now, after I graduate, I don't know what to do with my degree because I don't want to leave you. When you ask for money I give it to you without a second of hesitation. When you need to use my shower or ask me to do your laundry I will always happily agree. I will cook every meal for you every day. If you were to kill someone and ask me to dispose of the body and lie for you, I would do that. If you were to abduct me and keep me prisoner in your basement I would be happy that I am near you. I will die for you. I will do anything for you. You are my god. I am so fucking in love with you!" Marjorine was begging Kenny to accept her love. Tears poured freely down her face and she had taken to clawing at the front of his hoodie. Kenny looked down at the mess of a woman in front of him. His eyes appeared glazed over and he remained silent and still for a few moments.

"Marjorine," he finally said. The sobbing woman lifted her teary aquamarine eyes to meet his light blue ones. "Stop it," he commanded. Her eyes widened as he pried her crying form off of his body.

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

"I'm never going to be with you," he told her bluntly. "I think you're really great and you're really hot and everything, but I won't stop using for you. All you're going to do is get hurt," he stated.

"But maybe you could go to rehab and get better!" she pleaded.

"No," he argued. "I don't want to get better. This is how I'm going to live this life. You don't need to waste your time on me because I'll end up breaking your heart," he said.

"Kenny, I just want to be with you," she sobbed.

"Do you wanna know where I was the past few days?" Kenny asked offhandedly. She gave him a questioning look. "I ran out of money so I hitched rides to Denver so I could fuck people for money. All I needed was four hundred dollars. Do you wanna know where a hundred of that is right now?" he asked. Marjorine continued staring at him in shock as he motioned to his body. "It's inside me right now. It went right up my nose," he told her in a numb manner. A small gasp escaped Marjorine's lips. "I'm gonna get out of here," he said coolly as he eyed the exit.

"Kenny," Marjorine choked out not wanted to believe what had just happened.

"Maybe in the next life," the drug addict told her quietly before leaving the reunion. The blonde woman remained frozen in place with her mind racing. Kenny was her entire world. Kenny had just rejected her. What was she to do now? With no hope of ever belonging to the dangerous yet beautiful blonde man how was she supposed to have the will to live? The soul crushing scream which echoed through her mind came out of her mouth as a small squeak followed by a new flood of tears. The distraught woman tore her way across the gym towards the bathroom where she could break down alone.

"Ah! Jesus! Why do people keep running through here?" Tweek shrieked in fright.

"Relax, Tweek," Nick told him calmly. The two men had been standing in one of the dark corners of the gym for nearly the entire night. Nick was bored out of his mind just standing there watching a bunch of people he didn't know have a good time, but he was only there to follow Tweek around and make sure he was okay.

"Have you seen your friends here yet?" the nurse asked curiously. The blonde patient nodded his head hesitantly. "Well why don't you go say something to them. Are you really just going to stand in a corner all night?" the taller man wondered. Tweek twitched nervously.

"If I go talk to them, you will be there and I don't know what to say. How do I explain you? Gah! I don't want to just say 'hey guys, I got locked in a loony bin and this guy is here to inject drugs into me if I freak out on anyone'." Nick considered this for a moment.

"Just say I'm your friend?" the nurse suggested with a shrug.

Tweek emitted a whining noise, "What guy just decides to bring another guy friend along to his high school reunion to meet all of his old friends?" Nick shrugged again.

"Alright, then say I'm your boyfriend, I dunno," the stronger man stated causing Tweek to nearly scream.

"I- I'm not g- gay!" the blonde stammered in defense as he flushed with embarrassment and lightly whacked the other man on the arm.

"Sorry!" Nick laughed. "I guess I should've worn a wig and a dress so we could say I'm your girlfriend. I don't think I'd make a very attractive woman though."

"I'm not- I'm not attracted to women either," Tweek said. "I don't have sexual feelings at all. I guess I'm asexual," he admitted.

"That's kinda interesting," Nick quirked his eyebrow at him.

"There's Craig," the blonde man pointed out. Suddenly he looked frightened. "You wouldn't let him take me if he's become a government agent, right?" he pleaded while latching onto Nick's arm.

"Don't worry, Tweek, there isn't a government agent out there that can get past me," he claimed while giving his patient a wink. Tweek struggled with a few more of his anxious tics before he finally stepped out of the shadows and began approaching Craig with Nick silently trailing behind him.

The blonde stood fidgeting nervously behind his old friend for a few moments before finally reaching forward and tapping the dark haired man on the shoulder. "Craig- GAH- er, hi!" he shouted awkwardly. Craig turned around to see Tweek looking like he was just told to shoot someone and a taller, muscular, man with jet black hair.

"Tweek! I've been looking for you, dude! I'm glad you're here. Have you seen the other guys yet?" Craig asked. Tweek shook his head violently.

"I- I've been too afraid to talk to anyone so I've just been hiding in a corner," the blonde admitted.

"Don't be scared, Tweek. You went to school with us, remember?" Craig comforted. Tweek's light green eyes shifted around the room as he trembled.

"I just don't know if anyone is working for _them_," he whispered in a frightened manner. His old high school friend gave him a confused look and Nick placed a hand on Tweek's shoulder as a warning. Craig noticed the contact and was intrigued.

"Who's your friend?" the grey eyed man asked as he extended his hand out towards the nurse. "Hi, I'm Craig Tucker," he greeted. The other man grasped his hand to shake it.

"I'm Nick Evans, um-," the nurse trailed off looking towards Tweek for his input on what to introduce himself as. The blonde looked at the floor while chewing on his lip.

"Nick is one of my nurses," Tweek said quietly. Craig remained silent. "I live at the- nngh- mental institution," he whispered. Craig was still able to catch what the skinny man in front of him had said and was stunned. He knew Tweek's mental state was pretty bad in high school but he never thought it would get so out of hand he would have to be committed. The dark haired man was quickly wracking his brain for what to say as a response. Should he ask what happened? No, that probably wouldn't be appropriate. Should he ask if the blonde likes it there? No, still not appropriate. If he waited too long to say something it would come off as awkward.

"I'm sorry to hear about that," is what he finally scrounged up as an answer. Tweek gave him a fragile smile.

"It's okay," the blonde assured, "I'll probably get to leave soon anyways because there's nothing wrong with me." Craig didn't miss the painful expression on Nick's face which implied that Tweek was being overly optimistic.

"That's great Tweek," Craig told him. The paranoid man smiled brighter and Nick gave Craig a grateful look for just playing along. The two friends continued catching up with each other until they heard a voice being amplified by a microphone coming from the head of the gym.

"If everyone could find a seat, m'kay, we just have a few announcements to make. Following the announcements we have a short slide show, m'kay," the voice stated. Craig turned his head in the direction of the voice to see Mr. Mackey standing near the projection screen.

"As if I didn't see enough of this guy while I was in school," Craig groaned. "Well I'm going to get back to Stan," the noirette told his mental patient friend. Tweek nodded in understanding.

"It was great seeing you again," the blonde chirped.

"Yeah, you too," Craig agreed. The lanky man made his way over to the table where Stan was seated with Bebe and Clyde. The grey eyed man placed a kiss on Stan's cheek as he sat down next to him. "Where'd Marjorine go?" he whispered to the other people at the table.

Bebe leaned closer towards him, "I heard her crying in the bathroom awhile ago. She seemed hysterical and was calling someone to come pick her up. She kept saying to whoever it was that they were right about Kenny and she'll listen to their advice next time. It sounded pretty bad. I hope she's okay." Craig and Stan both had concerned looks on their faces. Mr. Mackey returned to his place next to the projector holding a microphone.

"M'kay people we just wanted to thank you for coming out to the reunion this evening. It's great to see everyone back here together to catch up and everything, m'kay," the old counselor began shuffling through a few pieces of paper in his hands. "A couple of quick announcements that are applicable to your graduating class. After this next school year I will be retiring as school counselor," the aging man told the room, receiving a few "aww's" from some people. It was hard to imagine anyone else besides Mr. Mackey being the school counselor in South Park. "I'll have you know that in all my years of working in the South Park school system, m'kay, two students from this graduating class hold the record of being sent to me the most," he stated. "Those two students are Craig Tucker, with his inability to keep his middle finger down, and Eric Cartman, with his inability to act like a civil human being." The gym erupted into laughter and Craig rolled his eyes as he raised his middle finger in Mr. Mackey's direction with Stan giggling next to him.

"If Mr. Tucker is present tonight, I bet he probably just flipped me off too," Mr. Mackey speculated. Everyone at Craig's table burst into shouts of glee and Stan and Bebe yelled "he did!" in unison. This caused another round of laughter to echo throughout the gym. The old man chuckled to himself and waited for the gym full of people to simmer down.

"Alright moving on," he addressed once everyone had settled themselves. "We will be having another reunion in another seven years. Don't ask me why we picked such a random odd number that's just what we agreed with, m'kay?" Craig was certain he could faintly hear Tweek freaking out about it being an odd number. He even thought he heard something about how it should be eight instead because then at least it would be even and symmetrical. "Just look for the invitation in the mail much like how we did for this reunion," the old man explained. "Anyways, we have this slideshow for you guys that has been put together for this evening m'kay. The class officers of this year's graduating class volunteered to put this together using old yearbook pictures as well as some photos that never made it into the yearbook but were still stored in the archives of the yearbook room." He then cued the slideshow to begin and had a seat off to the side. Stan laced his fingers through Craig's and rested his head on the other man's shoulder as they watched the heart warmingly nostalgic pictures of themselves and everyone else play across the projection screen. Craig gave Stan's hand a squeeze and kissed the top of his head. Some people were moved to tears while others laughed at how goofy or awkward they were in their younger days.

A slight commotion was caused when the sudden noise of glass breaking and chairs scraping against the floor was accompanied by Tweek shouting, "They know everything! They can see everything! Gah! They're here!" Craig turned to see the outburst just in time to witness Nick wrestling with the petite blonde and then plunging a needle into his arm. In a matter of seconds Tweek went limp in the nurse's arms and was being carried out of the gym. Stan gave Craig a worried look.

"Tweek is in the mental institution. That guy was one of his nurses," Craig whispered to Stan so that he would understand. The blue eyed man gave his husband a sympathetic look. As the slide show of old pictures went on the two men couldn't help chuckling at a few images of their eighteen year old selves in silly poses. One of the pictures had Kyle pouring over a book in the library as the main focus but in the background a rather comical scene could easily be spotted. The two dark haired boys were seated at opposite ends of a library table to the left of the studious red head. Both Stan and Craig were giving each other hateful glares with their middle fingers raised. Everyone seated at the same table as the former enemies gave them joking glances and shared a chuckle or two with them.

Mr. Mackey resumed his post beside the projection screen once the slideshow had ended. "There's only a little bit of time left this evening, m'kay, so I'd like to thank you all again for coming out. South Park High school also hopes you will be able to join us again for the next reunion. Have a great night, m'kay," the old counselor announced in closing. Clyde turned in his seat to face Craig with a set look on his face.

"Well, I think I've decided," the tanned man stated.

"What?" Craig asked in confusion. Stan looked on at their conversation with mild interest.

"I have decided to take over the shoe store from my dad," Clyde elaborated.

"Are you sure about that?" Craig asked with a small amount of concern. The brunette nodded his head gravely.

"I just figured, you know, it would make him happy and I don't want him to die alone in the store," he explained. "Sometimes life just doesn't give you all the cards you want so you end up losing a lot of Pokémon battles."

"Excuse me?" Craig asked indifferently.

"You know how some people say you've got to deal the hand you've been given, like life gives you cards for a game? Well, in my mind, those cards are Pokémon cards," Clyde attempted to explain. Stan couldn't hold in a laugh and Craig gave his old friend a very deadly stare. "I'll find some way to have fun around this town," he shrugged. "Well, I've gotta get going," the ditzy man announced. "It was great seeing you guys again! Hopefully I'll see you next time."

"See you, Clyde," Stan said politely.

"Bye, man," Craig bid farewell as he shook Clyde's hand. "Are you about ready to head back to your parents' house?" he asked Stan.

"Yeah I guess so," the blue eyed man responded. "He's right though," Stan remarked as the two made their way to the exit. "If there's one thing I've gathered from this whole experience it's that life doesn't always turn out the way you wanted it to."

"Oh? And how exactly did your life turn out, Mr. Marsh-Tucker?" Craig asked in a playfully mocking tone.

"Hmm…," Stan pretended to think hard but couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips. The shorter man stopped walking once they reached the parking lot causing Craig to halt his footsteps as well. Stan turned to Craig and gave him a blank stare for a moment before cracking into a huge grin. "Better than I could have ever imagined," he beamed. A small smile worked its way onto Craig's lips as he rolled his eyes at his husband and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Me too," the grey eyed man whispered and the two resumed their journey through the parking lot.


End file.
